Work and Wait

What we do upon some great occasion will probably depend on what we already are; and what we are will be the result of previous years of self-discipline.—H. P. LIDDON.

What we do on a great occasion will probably depend on who we already are. And who we are will be the result of years of self-discipline. H. P. LIDDON.

I consider a human soul without education like marble in a quarry, which shows none of its inherent beauties until the skill of the polisher sketches out the colors, makes the surface shine, and discovers every ornamental cloud, spot, and vein that runs throughout the body of it.—ADDISON.

I think a human soul without education is like marble in a quarry. The marble shows none of its natural beauty until a skilled polisher brings out its colors and makes its surface shine. The polisher reveals every beautiful cloud, spot, and vein running through it. ADDISON.

Use your gifts faithfully, and they shall be enlarged; practise what you know, and you shall attain to higher knowledge.—ARNOLD.

Use your gifts faithfully, and they will grow. Practice what you know, and you will gain greater knowledge. ARNOLD.

Haste trips up its own heels, fetters and stops itself.—SENECA.

Haste trips itself up, ties itself down, and stops itself. Seneca.

The more you know, the more you can save yourself and that which belongs to you, and do more work with less effort.—CHARLES KINGSLEY.

The more you know, the better you can protect yourself and what belongs to you. You can also do more work with less effort. CHARLES KINGSLEY.

"I was a mere cipher in that vast sea of human enterprise," said Henry Bessemer, speaking of his arrival in London in 1831. Although but eighteen years old, and without an acquaintance in the city, he soon made work for himself by inventing a process of copying bas-reliefs on cardboard. His method was so simple that one could learn in ten minutes how to make a die from an embossed stamp for a penny. Having ascertained later that in this way the raised stamps on all official papers in England could easily be forged, he set to work and invented a perforated stamp which could not be forged nor removed from a document. At the public stamp office he was told by the chief that the government was losing 100,000 pounds a year through the custom of removing stamps from old parchments and using them again.

"I was just a nobody in that vast sea of human enterprise," said Henry Bessemer, recalling his arrival in London in 1831. He was only eighteen and knew no one in the city. Even so, he soon created work for himself by inventing a process for copying bas-reliefs on cardboard. His method was so simple that anyone could learn in ten minutes to make a die from an embossed stamp for a penny. Later, he discovered that the method could easily be used to forge the raised stamps on all official papers in England. So he set to work and invented a perforated stamp that could neither be forged nor removed from a document. At the public stamp office, the chief told him that the government was losing 100,000 pounds a year. People were removing stamps from old parchments and using them again.

The chief also fully appreciated the new danger of easy counterfeiting. So he offered Bessemer a definite sum for his process of perforation, or an office for life at eight hundred pounds a year. Bessemer chose the office, and hastened to tell the good news to a young woman with whom he had agreed to share his fortune. In explaining his invention, he told how it would prevent any one from taking a valuable stamp from a document a hundred years old and using it a second time.

The chief also fully understood the new danger of easy counterfeiting. So he offered Bessemer a fixed sum for his perforation process or a job for life at eight hundred pounds a year. Bessemer chose the job and hurried to tell the good news to a young woman he had agreed to share his fortune with. He explained how his invention would prevent anyone from removing a valuable stamp from a hundred-year-old document and using it again.

"Yes," said his betrothed, "I understand that; but, surely, if all stamps had a date put upon them they could not at a future time be used without detection."

"Yes," said his fiancée, "I understand that. But surely, if all stamps had a date on them, they couldn't be used later without being detected."

This was a very short speech, and of no special importance if we omit a single word of four letters; but, like the schoolboy's pins which saved the lives of thousands of people annually by not getting swallowed, that little word, by keeping out of the ponderous minds of the British revenue officers, had for a long period saved the government the burden of caring for an additional income of 100,000 pounds a year. And the same little word, if published in its connection, would render Bessemer's perforation device of far less value than a last year's bird's nest. He felt proud of the young woman's ingenuity, and promptly suggested the improvement at the stamp office.

This was a very short speech, and it would have been unimportant without one four-letter word. A schoolboy once said that pins saved thousands of lives each year because people did not swallow them. In much the same way, this little word had stayed out of the slow minds of British revenue officers. For a long time, that had saved the government the burden of collecting an additional £100,000 a year. And if the little word were published in its proper context, Bessemer's perforation device would be worth far less than last year's bird's nest. He was proud of the young woman's ingenuity and promptly suggested the improvement at the stamp office.

As a result his system of perforation was abandoned and he was deprived of his promised office, the government coolly making use from that day to this, without compensation, of the idea conveyed by that little insignificant word.

As a result, his perforation system was abandoned, and he lost the position he had been promised. Yet from that day to this, the government has coolly used the idea conveyed by that little, insignificant word without compensation.

So Bessemer's financial prospects were not very encouraging; but, realizing that the best capital a young man can have is a capital wife, he at once entered into a partnership which placed at his command the combined ideas of two very level heads. The result, after years of thought and experiment, was the Bessemer process of making steel cheaply, which has revolutionized the iron industry throughout the world. His method consists simply in forcing hot air from below into several tons of melted pig-iron, so as to produce intense combustion; and then adding enough spiegel-eisen (looking-glass iron), an ore rich in carbon, to change the whole mass to steel.

Bessemer’s financial prospects were not very promising. But he realized that the best capital a young man can have is an excellent wife. He promptly married, forming a partnership that gave him the combined ideas of two very sensible people. After years of thought and experiment, the result was the Bessemer process for making steel cheaply. The process has revolutionized the iron industry throughout the world. His method simply involves forcing hot air up through several tons of melted pig iron to produce intense combustion. Then enough spiegel-eisen (looking-glass iron), an ore rich in carbon, is added to turn the whole mass into steel.

He discovered this simple process only after trying in vain much more difficult and expensive methods.

He discovered this simple process only after trying much more difficult and expensive methods without success.

The great lack of the age is want of thoroughness. How seldom you find a young man or woman who is willing to take time to prepare for his life work! A little education is all they want, a little smattering of books, and then they are ready for business.

The greatest shortcoming of our age is a lack of thoroughness. How rarely do you find a young person willing to take time to prepare for their life's work! All they want is a little education and a few books. Then they are ready for business.

"Can't wait" is characteristic of the century, and is written on everything; on commerce, on schools, on society, on churches. Can't wait for a high school, seminary, or college. The boy can't wait to become a youth, nor the youth a man. Youth rush into business with no great reserve of education or drill; of course they do poor, feverish work, and break down in middle life, and many die of old age in the forties. Everybody is in a hurry. Buildings are rushed up so quickly that they will not stand, and everything is made "to sell."

"Can't wait" defines the century, and it is written on everything: commerce, schools, society, and churches. People can't wait to finish high school, seminary, or college. Boys can't wait to become young men, and young men can't wait to be fully grown. Young people rush into business with little education or training behind them. Of course, they do poor, frantic work and break down in middle age. Many die of old age in their forties. Everybody is in a hurry. Buildings go up so quickly that they won't stand, and everything is made "to sell."

Not long ago a professor in one of our universities had a letter from a young woman in the West, asking him if he did not think she could teach elocution if she could come to the university and take twelve lessons. Our young people of to-day are not willing to lay broad, deep foundations. The weary years in preparatory school and college dishearten them. They only want a "smattering" of an education. But as Pope says,—

Not long ago, a university professor received a letter from a young woman in the West. She asked whether he thought she could teach public speaking after taking twelve lessons at the university. Young people today are not willing to lay broad, deep foundations. The long years in preparatory school and college discourage them. They want only a "smattering" of an education. But as Pope says:

The shifts to cover up ignorance, and "the constant trembling lest some blunder should expose one's emptiness," are pitiable. Short cuts and abridged methods are the demand of the hour. But the way to shorten the road to success is to take plenty of time to lay in your reserve power. Hard work, a definite aim, and faithfulness will shorten the way. Don't risk a life's superstructure upon a day's foundation.

The tricks people use to hide their ignorance are pitiful. So is "the constant fear that a mistake will expose how little they know." Everyone wants shortcuts and quick methods today. But the way to shorten the road to success is to take plenty of time to build up your reserves. Hard work, a clear aim, and faithfulness will shorten the way. Don't risk building a life's work on a foundation laid in a day.

Patience is Nature's motto. She works ages to bring a flower to perfection. What will she not do for the greatest of her creation? Ages and aeons are nothing to her; out of them she has been carving her great statue, a perfect man.

Patience is Nature's motto. She works for ages to bring a flower to perfection. What will she not do for the greatest of her creations? Ages and eons mean nothing to her. Throughout them, she has been carving her great statue, a perfect man.

Johnson said a man must turn over half a library to write one book. When an authoress told Wordsworth she had spent six hours on a poem, he replied that he would have spent six weeks. Think of Bishop Hall spending thirty years on one of his works! Owens was working on the "Commentary to the Epistle to the Hebrews" for twenty years. Moore spent several weeks on one of his musical stanzas which reads as if it were a dash of genius.

Johnson said a man must search through half a library to write one book. When a woman writer told Wordsworth she had spent six hours on a poem, he said he would have spent six weeks. Think of Bishop Hall spending thirty years on one of his works! Owens spent twenty years working on the "Commentary to the Epistle to the Hebrews". Moore spent several weeks on one of his musical stanzas, though it reads as if it were a spontaneous flash of genius.

Carlyle wrote with the utmost difficulty and never executed a page of his great histories till he had consulted every known authority, so that every sentence is the quintessence of many books, the product of many hours of drudging research in the great libraries. Today, "Sartor Resartus" is everywhere. You can get it for a mere trifle at almost any bookseller's, and hundreds of thousands of copies are scattered over the world. But when Carlyle brought it to London in 1851, it was refused almost contemptuously by three prominent publishers. At length he managed to get it into "Fraser's Magazine," the editor of which conveyed to the author the pleasing information that his work had been received with "unqualified disapprobation."

Carlyle wrote with great difficulty. He never wrote a page of his great histories without consulting every known authority. As a result, every sentence distills the essence of many books and represents many hours of painstaking research in great libraries. Today, "Sartor Resartus" is everywhere. You can buy it for very little at almost any bookstore, and hundreds of thousands of copies are scattered around the world. But when Carlyle brought it to London in 1851, three prominent publishers rejected it almost contemptuously. At last, he managed to get it published in "Fraser's Magazine." The editor gave him the pleasant news that his work had been received with "unqualified disapprobation."

Henry Ward Beecher sent half a dozen articles to the publisher of a religious paper to pay for his subscription, but they were respectfully declined. The publishers of the "Atlantic Monthly" returned Miss Alcott's manuscript, suggesting that she had better stick to teaching. One of the leading magazines ridiculed Tennyson's first poems, and consigned the young poet to temporary oblivion. Only one of Ralph Waldo Emerson's books had a remunerative sale. Washington Irving was nearly seventy years old before the income from his books paid the expenses of his household.

Henry Ward Beecher sent six articles to the publisher of a religious paper to pay for his subscription, but the publisher politely declined them. The publishers of the "Atlantic Monthly" returned Miss Alcott's manuscript and suggested that she stick to teaching. A leading magazine ridiculed Tennyson's first poems, and the young poet was temporarily forgotten. Only one of Ralph Waldo Emerson's books sold well enough to make a profit. Washington Irving was nearly seventy before the income from his books covered his household expenses.

In some respects it is very unfortunate that the old system of binding boys out to a trade has been abandoned. To-day very few boys learn any trade. They pick up what they know, as they go along, just as a student crams for a particular examination, just to "get through," without any effort to see how much he may learn on any subject.

In some ways, it is very unfortunate that the old system of apprenticing boys to a trade has been abandoned. Today, very few boys learn a trade. They pick up what they know as they go along. They are like a student who crams for an exam just to "get through," without trying to learn as much as possible about the subject.

Think of an American youth spending ten years with Da Vinci on the model of an equestrian statue that he might master the anatomy of the horse! Most young American artists would expect, in a quarter of that time, to sculpture an Apollo Belvidere.

Imagine an American youth spending ten years with Da Vinci on a model of a statue of a rider on horseback, just to master horse anatomy! Most young American artists would expect to sculpt an Apollo Belvidere in a quarter of that time.

A rich man asked Howard Burnett to do a little something for his album. Burnett complied and charged a thousand francs. "But it took you only five minutes," objected the rich man. "Yes, but it took me thirty years to learn how to do it in five minutes."

A rich man asked Howard Burnett to do a little something for his album. Burnett did so and charged a thousand francs. "But it only took you five minutes," the rich man objected. "Yes, but it took me thirty years to learn how to do it in five minutes."

What the age wants is men who have the nerve and the grit to work and wait, whether the world applaud or hiss; a Mirabeau, who can struggle on for forty years before he has a chance to show the world his vast reserve, destined to shake an empire; a Farragut, a Von Moltke, who have the persistence to work and wait for half a century for their first great opportunities; a Grant, fighting on in heroic silence, when denounced by his brother generals and politicians everywhere; a Michael Angelo, working seven long years decorating the Sistine Chapel with his matchless "Creation" and the "Last Judgment," refusing all remuneration therefor, lest his pencil might catch the taint of avarice; a Thurlow Weed, walking two miles through the snow with rags tied around his feet for shoes, to borrow the history of the French Revolution, and eagerly devouring it before the sap-bush fire; a Milton, elaborating "Paradise Lost" in a world he could not see; a Thackeray, struggling on cheerfully after his "Vanity Fair" was refused by a dozen publishers; a Balzac, toiling and waiting in a lonely garret; men whom neither poverty, debt, nor hunger could discourage or intimidate; not daunted by privations, not hindered by discouragements. It wants men who can work and wait.

What this age needs is men with the courage and grit to work and wait, whether the world applauds or jeers. It needs a Mirabeau, who can struggle on for forty years before getting a chance to reveal his immense reserves of strength, destined to shake an empire. It needs a Farragut or a Von Moltke, with the persistence to work and wait for half a century for a first great opportunity. It needs a Grant, fighting on in heroic silence while his fellow generals and politicians everywhere denounce him. It needs a Michael Angelo, working seven long years to decorate the Sistine Chapel with his unmatched "Creation" and "Last Judgment." He refused all payment for the work, so that greed would not taint his art. It needs a Thurlow Weed, walking two miles through the snow with rags tied around his feet for shoes. He went to borrow a history of the French Revolution, then eagerly devoured it beside a fire in the sugar shack. It needs a Milton, composing "Paradise Lost" in a world he could not see. It needs a Thackeray, struggling on cheerfully after a dozen publishers rejected his "Vanity Fair." It needs a Balzac, working hard and waiting in a lonely attic. It needs men whom neither poverty, debt, nor hunger could discourage or intimidate, men undaunted by hardship and undeterred by setbacks. It needs men who can work and wait.

When a young lawyer Daniel Webster once looked in vain through all the law libraries near him, and then ordered at an expense of fifty dollars the necessary books, to obtain authorities and precedents in a case in which his client was a poor blacksmith. He won his case, but, on account of the poverty of his client, only charged fifteen dollars, thus losing heavily on the books bought, to say nothing of his time. Years after, as he was passing through New York City, he was consulted by Aaron Burr on an important but puzzling case then pending before the Supreme Court. He saw in a moment that it was just like the blacksmith's case, an intricate question of title, which he had solved so thoroughly that it was to him now as simple as the multiplication table. Going back to the time of Charles II he gave the law and precedents involved with such readiness and accuracy of sequence that Burr asked in great surprise if he had been consulted before in the case. "Most certainly not," he replied, "I never heard of your case till this evening." "Very well," said Burr, "proceed"; and, when he had finished, Webster received a fee that paid him liberally for all the time and trouble he had spent for his early client.

When Daniel Webster was a young lawyer, he once searched all the law libraries near him without success. He needed legal authorities and precedents for a case involving a poor blacksmith. So he ordered the necessary books at a cost of fifty dollars. He won the case, but because his client was poor, he charged only fifteen dollars. He lost a great deal on the books, not to mention the time he spent. Years later, while passing through New York City, Webster was consulted by Aaron Burr. Burr had an important but puzzling case pending before the Supreme Court. Webster saw at once that it was just like the blacksmith's case. Both involved a complicated question of title. He had worked out the question so thoroughly that it was now as simple to him as the multiplication table. Starting with the time of Charles II, he explained the law and precedents involved. He presented them so readily and in such accurate order that Burr asked in great surprise if he had been consulted before about the case. "Most certainly not," he replied, "I never heard of your case till this evening." "Very well," said Burr, "proceed". When Webster had finished, he received a fee that paid him generously for all the time and trouble he had spent on his early client.

Albert Bierstadt first crossed the Rocky Mountains with a band of pioneers in 1859, making sketches for the paintings of Western scenes for which he had become famous. As he followed the trail to Pike's Peak, he gazed in wonder upon the enormous herds of buffaloes which dotted the plains as far as the eye could reach, and thought of the time when they would have disappeared before the march of civilization. The thought haunted him and found its final embodiment in "The Last of the Buffaloes" in 1890. To perfect this great work he had spent twenty years.

In 1859, Albert Bierstadt first crossed the Rocky Mountains with a group of pioneers. He made sketches for the paintings of Western scenes that had made him famous. As he followed the trail to Pike's Peak, he gazed in wonder at the enormous herds of buffaloes. They dotted the plains as far as he could see. He thought of the time when they would disappear as civilization advanced. The thought haunted him and finally took shape in "The Last of the Buffaloes" in 1890. He had spent twenty years perfecting this great work.

Everything which endures, which will stand the test of time, must have a deep, solid foundation. In Rome the foundation is often the most expensive part of an edifice, so deep must they dig to build on the living rock.

Everything that lasts, that stands the test of time, must have a deep, solid foundation. In Rome, the foundation is often the most expensive part of a building. Builders must dig very deep to reach solid rock.

Fifty feet of Bunker Hill Monument is under ground; unseen and unappreciated by those who tread about that historic shaft, but it is this foundation, apparently thrown away, which enables it to stand upright, true to the plumb-line through all the tempests that lash its granite sides. A large part of every successful life must be spent in laying foundation stones underground. Success is the child of drudgery and perseverance and depends upon "knowing how long it takes to succeed."

Fifty feet of Bunker Hill Monument lies underground. People walking around the historic monument cannot see or appreciate this foundation. It may seem wasted, but it keeps the monument standing straight and upright through all the storms that batter its granite sides. Much of every successful life must be spent laying foundation stones underground. Success is the child of hard work and perseverance. It depends on "knowing how long it takes to succeed."

Endurance is a much better test of character than any one act of heroism, however noble.

Endurance is a much better test of character than any single act of heroism, no matter how noble.

The pianist Thalberg said he never ventured to perform one of his celebrated pieces in public until he had played it at least fifteen hundred times. He laid no claim whatever to genius; he said it was all a question of hard work. The accomplishments of such industry, such perseverance, would put to shame many a man who claims genius.

The pianist Thalberg said he never performed one of his celebrated pieces in public until he had played it at least fifteen hundred times. He made no claim to genius. He said it was all a matter of hard work. What he accomplished through such hard work and perseverance would put many a man who claims genius to shame.

Before Edmund Kean would consent to appear in that character which he acted with such consummate skill, The Gentleman Villain, he practised constantly before a glass, studying expression for a year and a half. When he appeared upon the stage, Byron, who went with Moore to see him, said he never looked upon so fearful and wicked a face. As the great actor went on to delineate the terrible consequences of sin, Byron fainted.

Before Edmund Kean agreed to play The Gentleman Villain, a character he portrayed with exceptional skill, he prepared for a year and a half. He constantly practiced expressions in front of a mirror. When he appeared onstage, Byron went with Moore to see him. Byron said he had never seen such a frightening and wicked face. As the great actor went on to portray the terrible consequences of sin, Byron fainted.

"For years I was in my place of business by sunrise," said a wealthy banker who had begun without a dollar; "and often I did not leave it for fifteen or eighteen hours."

"For years I was at work by sunrise," said a wealthy banker who had started with nothing. "Often I stayed for fifteen or eighteen hours."

Patience, it is said, changes the mulberry leaf to satin. The giant oak on the hillside was detained months or years in its upward growth while its root took a great turn around some rock, in order to gain a hold by which the tree was anchored to withstand the storms of centuries. Da Vinci spent four years on the head of Mona Lisa, perhaps the most beautiful ever painted, but he left therein an artistic thought for all time.

Patience, it is said, turns the mulberry leaf into satin. The giant oak on the hillside stopped growing upward for months or years while its root made a long turn around a rock. The root gained a hold that anchored the tree against the storms of centuries. Da Vinci spent four years painting the head of Mona Lisa, perhaps the most beautiful ever painted. But he left in it an artistic idea for all time.

Said Captain Bingham: "You can have no idea of the wonderful machine that the German army is and how well it is prepared for war. A chart is made out which shows just what must be done in the case of wars with the different nations, and every officer's place in the scheme is laid out beforehand. There is a schedule of trains which will supersede all other schedules the moment war is declared, and this is so arranged that the commander of the army here could telegraph to any officer to take such a train and go to such a place at a moment's notice."

Captain Bingham said: "You can have no idea what a remarkable machine the German army is or how well prepared it is for war. A chart shows exactly what must be done in a war with each nation. Every officer's place in the plan is decided in advance. A train schedule will replace all other schedules the moment war is declared. The schedule is arranged so that the army commander here can telegraph any officer to take a particular train to a particular place at a moment's notice."

A learned clergyman was thus accosted by an illiterate preacher who despised education: "Sir, you have been to college, I presume?" "Yes, sir," was the reply. "I am thankful," said the former, "that the Lord opened my mouth without any learning." "A similar event," retorted the clergyman, "happened in Balaam's time."

An uneducated preacher who despised education approached a learned clergyman. "Sir, I assume you went to college?" "Yes, sir," he replied. "I am thankful," said the preacher, "that the Lord opened my mouth without any education." "Something similar," the clergyman replied, "happened in Balaam's time."

A young man just graduated told the President of Trinity College that he had completed his education, and had come to say good-by. "Indeed," said the President, "I have just begun my education."

A young man who had just graduated told the President of Trinity College that he had completed his education. He had come to say goodbye. "Really," said the President, "I have just begun my education."

Many an extraordinary man has been made out of a very ordinary boy: but in order to accomplish this we must begin with him while he is young. It is simply astonishing what training will do for a rough, uncouth, and even dull lad, if he has good material in him, and comes under the tutelage of a skilled educator before his habits become fixed or confirmed.

Many extraordinary men started out as very ordinary boys. But to make this happen, we must begin while they are young. Training can do astonishing things for a rough, awkward, or even slow boy. But he must have good material in him and come under a skilled teacher’s guidance before his habits become fixed.

Even a few weeks' or months' drill of the rawest and roughest recruits in the late Civil War so straightened and dignified stooping and uncouth soldiers, and made them manly, erect, and courteous in their bearing, that their own friends scarcely knew them. If this change is so marked in the youth who has grown to maturity, what a miracle is possible in the lad who is taken early and put under a course of drill and systematic training, both physical, mental, and moral! How often a man who is in the penitentiary, in the poorhouse, or among the tramps, or living out a miserable existence in the slums of our cities, rough, slovenly, has slumbering within the rags possibilities which would have developed him into a magnificent man, an ornament to the human race instead of a foul blot and ugly scar, had he only been fortunate enough early in life to have enjoyed the benefits of efficient and systematic training!

During the recent Civil War, even a few weeks or months of drill transformed the rawest, roughest recruits. Stooping, awkward soldiers became dignified and manly, standing upright and carrying themselves with courtesy. Their own friends scarcely recognized them. If the change is so striking in a young man who has reached maturity, imagine the miracle possible in a boy who receives systematic physical, mental, and moral training early in life! How often a man in prison or the poorhouse, among the tramps, or living miserably in a city slum is rough and untidy. Yet beneath his rags lies untapped potential. If only he had been fortunate enough to receive effective, systematic training early in life, he might have become a magnificent man, an ornament to the human race instead of a foul blot and ugly scar!

Laziness begins in cobwebs and ends in iron chains. Edison described his repeated efforts to make the phonograph reproduce an aspirated sound, and added: "From eighteen to twenty hours a day for the last seven months I have worked on this single word 'specia.' I said into the phonograph 'specia, specia, specia,' but the instrument responded 'pecia, pecia, pecia.' It was enough to drive one mad. But I held firm, and I have succeeded."

Laziness begins in cobwebs and ends in iron chains. Edison described his repeated attempts to make the phonograph reproduce a breathy sound. He added: "For the last seven months, I have worked on this one word, 'specia,' for eighteen to twenty hours a day. I said 'specia, specia, specia' into the phonograph, but the machine responded 'pecia, pecia, pecia.' It was enough to drive me mad. But I kept at it, and I succeeded."

The road to distinction must be paved with years of self-denial and hard work.

The path to distinction requires years of sacrifice and hard work.

Horace Mann, the great author of the common school system of Massachusetts, was a remarkable example of that pluck and patience which can work and wait. His only inheritance was poverty and hard work. But he had an unquenchable thirst for knowledge and a determination to get on in the world. He braided straw to earn money to buy books for which his soul thirsted.

Horace Mann founded the public school system in Massachusetts. He was a remarkable example of the courage and patience to work and wait. He inherited nothing but poverty and hard work. But he had a thirst for knowledge that could not be quenched and a determination to get ahead in life. He braided straw to earn money to buy the books he longed for.

Gladstone was bound to win. Although he had spent many years of preparation for his life work, in spite of the consciousness of marvelous natural endowments which would have been deemed sufficient by many young men, and notwithstanding he had gained the coveted prize of a seat in Parliament, yet he decided to make himself master of the situation; and amid all his public and private duties, he not only spent eleven terms more in the study of the law, but also studied Greek constantly and read every well-written book or paper he could obtain, so determined was he that his life should be rounded out to its fullest measure, and that his mind should have broad and liberal culture.

Gladstone was determined to succeed. He had spent many years preparing for his life’s work. He also knew that he had extraordinary natural abilities, which many young men would have considered enough. He had even won the coveted prize of a seat in Parliament. Yet he decided to master the challenges before him. Despite all his public and private duties, he spent another eleven terms studying law. He also studied Greek constantly and read every well-written book or paper he could find. He was determined to make his life as full as possible and give his mind a broad, liberal education.

Ole Bull said: "If I practise one day, I can see the result; if I practise two days, my friends can see it; if I practise three days, the great public can see it."

Ole Bull said: "If I practice for one day, I can see the result. If I practice for two days, my friends can see it. If I practice for three days, the public can see it."

The habit of seizing every bit of knowledge, no matter how insignificant it may seem at the time, every opportunity, every occasion, and grinding them all up into experience, can not be overestimated. You will find use for all of it. Webster once repeated with effect an anecdote which he had heard fourteen years before, and which he had not thought of in the meantime. It exactly fitted the occasion. "It is an ill mason that rejects any stone."

The habit of making the most of every bit of knowledge, every opportunity, and every occasion cannot be overvalued. No matter how insignificant they seem at the time, turn them all into experience. You will find a use for all of it. Webster once used an anecdote to great effect after hearing it fourteen years earlier. He had not thought of it in the meantime, but it fit the occasion exactly. "A bad mason rejects any stone."

Webster was once urged to speak on a subject of great importance, but refused, saying he was very busy and had no time to master the subject. "But," replied his friend, "a very few words from you would do much to awaken public attention to it." Webster replied, "If there be so much weight in my words, it is because I do not allow myself to speak on any subject until my mind is imbued with it." On one occasion Webster made a remarkable speech before the Phi Beta Kappa Society at Harvard, when a book was presented to him; but after he had gone, his "impromptu" speech, carefully written out, was found in the book which he had forgotten to take away.

Webster was once urged to speak on a very important subject. He refused, saying he was very busy and had no time to master it. "But," his friend replied, "just a few words from you would do much to draw public attention to it." Webster replied, "If my words carry so much weight, it is because I never speak on a subject until I have fully absorbed it." On one occasion, Webster gave a remarkable speech before the Phi Beta Kappa Society at Harvard when he was presented with a book. But after he left, his "impromptu" speech was found carefully written out in the book he had forgotten to take with him.

Demosthenes was once asked to speak on a great and sudden emergency, but replied, "I am not prepared." In fact, it was thought by many that Demosthenes did not possess any genius whatever, because he never allowed himself to speak on any subject without thorough preparation. In any meeting or assembly, when called upon, he would never rise, even to make remarks, it was said, without previously preparing himself.

Demosthenes was once asked to speak during a major, sudden emergency, but he replied, "I am not prepared." In fact, many thought he had no genius at all because he always prepared thoroughly before speaking on any subject. It was said that when called upon at a meeting or assembly, he would never rise, even to make a few remarks, without preparing first.

Alexander Hamilton said, "Men give me credit for genius. All the genius I have lies just in this: when I have a subject in hand I study it profoundly. Day and night it is before me. I explore it in all its bearings. My mind becomes pervaded with it. Then the effort which I make the people are pleased to call the fruit of genius; it is the fruit of labor and thought." The law of labor is equally binding on genius and mediocrity.

Alexander Hamilton said, "People give me credit for genius. All the genius I have comes down to this: when I take up a subject, I study it deeply. It is on my mind day and night. I explore it from every angle. It fills my mind. Then people are pleased to call my work the result of genius. It is the result of labor and thought." The law of labor applies equally to genius and mediocrity.

Nelaton, the great surgeon, said that if he had four minutes in which to perform an operation on which a life depended, he would take one minute to consider how best to do it.

Nelaton, the great surgeon, once described what he would do if he had four minutes to perform a lifesaving operation. He said he would spend one minute considering how best to perform it.

"Many men," says Longfellow, "do not allow their principles to take root, but pull them up every now and then, as children do flowers they have planted, to see if they are growing." We must not only work, but also wait.

"Many men," says Longfellow, "do not let their principles take root. Instead, they pull them up every now and then to see if they are growing, like children with flowers they have planted." We must not only work, but also wait.

"The spruce young spark," says Sizer, "who thinks chiefly of his mustache and boots and shiny hat, of getting along nicely and easily during the day, and talking about the theater, the opera, or a fast horse, ridiculing the faithful young fellow who came to learn the business and make a man of himself because he will not join in wasting his time in dissipation, will see the day, if his useless life is not earlier blasted by vicious indulgences, when he will be glad to accept a situation from the fellow-clerk whom he now ridicules and affects to despise, when the latter shall stand in the firm, dispensing benefits and acquiring fortune."

"The well-dressed young man," says Sizer, "thinks chiefly about his mustache, boots, and shiny hat. He wants to get through the day comfortably and easily, talking about the theater, the opera, or a fast horse. He mocks the hardworking young man who came to learn the business and make something of himself. He mocks him because he will not join in wasting time on reckless pleasures. But unless such indulgences ruin his useless life first, the day will come when he will be glad to take a job from that fellow clerk. He now mocks the clerk and pretends to despise him. By then, the clerk will be a partner in the firm, doing good for others and gaining a fortune."

"I have been watching the careers of young men by the thousand in this busy city of New York for over thirty years," said Dr. Cuyler, "and I find that the chief difference between the successful and the failures lies in the single element of staying power. Permanent success is oftener won by holding on than by sudden dash, however brilliant. The easily discouraged, who are pushed back by a straw, are all the time dropping to the rear—to perish or to be carried along on the stretcher of charity. They who understand and practise Abraham Lincoln's homely maxim of 'pegging away' have achieved the solidest success."

"I have watched the careers of thousands of young men in this busy city of New York for over thirty years," said Dr. Cuyler. "I find that the main difference between those who succeed and those who fail is staying power. Lasting success is more often won by holding on than by a sudden burst of effort, however brilliant. Those who are easily discouraged and pushed back by the slightest obstacle keep falling behind. They either perish or are carried along on the stretcher of charity. Those who understand and practice Abraham Lincoln's plain saying, 'pegging away,' have achieved the most solid success."

The Duke of Wellington became so discouraged because he did not advance in the army that he applied for a much inferior position in the customs department, but was refused. Napoleon had applied for every vacant position for seven years before he was recognized, but meanwhile he studied with all his might, supplementing what was considered a thorough military education by researches and reflections which in later years enabled him easily to teach the art of war to veterans who had never dreamed of his novel combinations.

The Duke of Wellington became so discouraged by his lack of advancement in the army that he applied for a much lower position in the customs department. But he was turned down. Napoleon applied for every vacant position for seven years before he was recognized. Meanwhile, he studied with all his might. He built on what was considered a thorough military education through research and reflection. In later years, this work enabled him to teach the art of war with ease to veterans who had never imagined his innovative combinations.

Reserves which carry us through great emergencies are the result of long working and long waiting. Dr. Collyer declares that reserves mean to a man also achievement,—"the power to do the grandest thing possible to your nature when you feel you must, or some precious thing will be lost,—to do well always, but best in the crisis on which all things turn; to stand the strain of a long fight, and still find you have something left, and so to never know you are beaten, because you never are beaten."

The reserves that carry us through great emergencies come from long work and long waiting. Dr. Collyer says reserves also mean achievement for a man: "The power to do the greatest thing your nature allows when you feel you must, or something precious will be lost. The power to do well always, but best in the crisis on which everything depends. The power to endure a long fight and still have something left. And so you never know you are beaten, because you never are beaten."

He only is independent in action who has been earnest and thorough in preparation and self-culture. "Not for school, but for life, we learn"; and our habits—of promptness, earnestness, and thoroughness, or of tardiness, fickleness, and superficiality—are the things acquired most readily and longest retained.

Only those who have prepared seriously and thoroughly and worked to develop themselves can act independently. "We learn not for school, but for life." And our habits are what we acquire most readily and retain the longest. These may be habits of promptness, seriousness, and thoroughness, or of lateness, inconsistency, and superficiality.

To vary the language of another, the three great essentials to success in mental and physical labor are Practice, Patience, and Perseverance, but the greatest of these is Perseverance.

To adapt someone else’s words, success in mental and physical work requires three things: practice, patience, and perseverance. But the greatest of these is perseverance.