Pure Grit

Our greatest glory is not in never falling, but in rising every time we fall.—GOLDSMITH.

Our greatest glory is not in never falling, but in getting up every time we fall. Goldsmith.

The barriers are not yet erected which shall say to aspiring talent, "Thus far and no farther."—BEETHOVEN.

No barriers have yet been built that can say to aspiring talent, "You can go this far and no farther." BEETHOVEN.

"Friends and comrades," said Pizarro, as he turned toward the south, after tracing with his sword upon the sand a line from east to west, "on that side are toil, hunger, nakedness, the drenching storm, desertion, and death; on this side, ease and pleasure. There lies Peru with its riches: here, Panama and its poverty. Choose, each man, what best becomes a brave Castilian. For my part, I go to the south." So saying, he crossed the line and was followed by thirteen Spaniards in armor. Thus, on the little island of Gallo in the Pacific, when his men were clamoring to return to Panama, did Pizarro and his few volunteers resolve to stake their lives upon the success of a desperate crusade against the powerful empire of the Incas. At the time they had not even a vessel to transport them to the country they wished to conquer. Is it necessary to add that all difficulties yielded at last to such resolute determination?

Pizarro drew a line in the sand with his sword, from east to west. Then he turned toward the south and said, "Friends and comrades, on that side lie hard work, hunger, nakedness, soaking storms, desertion, and death. On this side lie ease and pleasure. There lies Peru with its riches. Here is Panama with its poverty. Each man must choose what is worthy of a brave Castilian. For my part, I am going south." With that, he crossed the line, followed by thirteen Spaniards in armor. This happened on the small Pacific island of Gallo, when his men were demanding to return to Panama. Pizarro and his few volunteers resolved to risk their lives on a desperate crusade against the powerful empire of the Incas. At the time, they did not even have a ship to carry them to the country they wished to conquer. Is it necessary to add that such firm determination finally overcame every difficulty?

"When you get into a tight place and everything goes against you, till it seems as if you could not hold on a minute longer," said Harriet Beecher Stowe, "never give up then, for that's just the place and time that the tide'll turn."

"When you're in a difficult situation and everything goes against you, you may feel you can't hold on another minute," said Harriet Beecher Stowe. "Never give up then, because that's exactly when and where the tide will turn."

Charles Sumner said "three things are necessary to a strong character: First, backbone; second, backbone; third, backbone."

Charles Sumner said, "Three things are necessary for a strong character: First, backbone. Second, backbone. Third, backbone."

While digging among the ruins of Pompeii, which was buried by the dust and ashes from an eruption of Vesuvius A. D. 79, the workmen found the skeleton of a Roman soldier in the sentry-box at one of the city's gates. He might have found safety under sheltering rocks close by; but, in the face of certain death, he had remained at his post, a mute witness to the thorough discipline, the ceaseless vigilance and fidelity which made the Roman legionaries masters of the known world.

While digging among the ruins of Pompeii, workmen found the skeleton of a Roman soldier. Pompeii had been buried by dust and ash from an eruption of Vesuvius in A.D. 79. The soldier was in the sentry box at one of the city’s gates. He might have found safety under nearby rocks. But even in the face of certain death, he had remained at his post. He was a silent witness to the thorough discipline, constant vigilance, and loyalty that made the Roman legionaries masters of the known world.

The world admires the man who never flinches from unexpected difficulties, who calmly, patiently, and courageously grapples with his fate; who dies, if need be, at his post.

The world admires a man who never backs down from unexpected difficulties. He faces his fate calmly, patiently, and courageously. If necessary, he dies at his post.

"Clear grit" always commands respect. It is that quality which achieves, and everybody admires achievement. In the strife of parties and principles, backbone without brains will carry against brains without backbone. You can not, by tying an opinion to a man's tongue, make him the representative of that opinion; at the close of any battle for principles, his name will be found neither among the dead nor among the wounded, but among the missing.

"True grit" always commands respect. It is the quality that achieves results, and everyone admires achievement. In struggles over parties and principles, backbone without brains will defeat brains without backbone. You cannot make a man stand for an opinion just by putting it on his lips. At the end of any battle for principles, his name will be found among the missing, not the dead or wounded.

The "London Times" was an insignificant sheet published by Mr. Walter and was steadily losing money. John Walter, Jr., then only twenty-seven years old, begged his father to give him full control of the paper. After many misgivings, the father finally consented. The young journalist began to remodel the establishment and to introduce new ideas everywhere. The paper had not attempted to mold public opinion, and had had no individuality or character of its own. The audacious young editor boldly attacked every wrong, even the government, whenever he thought it corrupt. Thereupon the public customs, printing, and the government advertisements were withdrawn. The father was in utter dismay. His son, he was sure, would ruin the paper and himself. But no remonstrance could swerve the son from his purpose to give the world a great journal which should have weight, character, individuality, and independence.

The "London Times" was a minor newspaper published by Mr. Walter, and it was steadily losing money. John Walter, Jr., then only twenty-seven, begged his father to give him full control of the paper. After much hesitation, his father finally agreed. The young journalist began to reorganize the business and introduce new ideas everywhere. The paper had not tried to shape public opinion, and it had no individuality or character of its own. The bold young editor attacked every wrong, even attacking the government whenever he thought it was corrupt. As a result, the paper lost the customs office and government printing and advertising work. His father was horrified. He was sure his son would ruin both the paper and himself. But no objection could turn the son from his goal. He was determined to give the world a great newspaper with influence, character, individuality, and independence.

The public soon saw that a new power stood behind the "Times"; that its articles meant business; that new life and new blood and new ideas had been infused into the insignificant sheet; that a man with brains and push and tenacity of purpose stood at the helm,—a man who could make a way when he could not find one. Among other new features foreign dispatches were introduced, and they appeared in the "Times" several days before their appearance in the government organs. The "leading article" also was introduced to stay. The aggressive editor antagonized the government, and his foreign dispatches were all stopped at the outposts, while the ministerial journalists were allowed to proceed. But nothing could daunt this resolute young spirit. At enormous expense he employed special couriers. Every obstacle put in his way, and all opposition from the government, only added to his determination to succeed. Enterprise, push, grit were behind the "Times," and nothing could stay its progress. Young Walter was the soul of the paper, and his personality pervaded every detail. In those days only three hundred copies of the paper could be struck off in an hour by the best presses, and Walter had duplicate and even triplicate types set. Then he set his brain to work, and finally the Walter Press, throwing off 17,000 copies per hour, both sides printed, was the result. It was the 29th of November, 1814, that the first steam printed paper was given to the world.

The public soon saw that a new force stood behind the "Times" and that its articles meant business. New life, new energy, and new ideas had been brought to the insignificant paper. A man with intelligence, drive, and determination was at the helm. He could make a way when he could not find one. Among other new features, foreign dispatches appeared in the "Times" several days before they appeared in government papers. The "leading article" was also introduced and became a permanent feature. The aggressive editor angered the government, and all his foreign dispatches were stopped at the outposts. Journalists who supported the government, however, were allowed through. But nothing could discourage this determined young man. At enormous expense, he hired special couriers. Every obstacle and all government opposition only strengthened his determination to succeed. Enterprise, drive, and grit were behind the "Times," and nothing could stop its progress. Young Walter was the soul of the paper, and his personality showed in every detail. In those days, the best presses could print only three hundred copies of the paper in an hour. Walter had two or even three sets of type prepared. Then he put his mind to work, and the result was the Walter Press. It produced 17,000 copies per hour, printed on both sides. The first steam-printed newspaper was given to the world on November 29, 1814.

"Mean natures always feel a sort of terror before great natures, and many a base thought has been unuttered, many a sneaking vote withheld, through the fear inspired by the rebuking presence of one noble man." As a rule, pure grit, character, has the right of way. In the presence of men permeated with grit and sound in character, meanness and baseness slink out of sight. Mean men are uncomfortable, dishonesty trembles, hypocrisy is uncertain.

"People of low character always feel a kind of fear in the presence of great people. Many a base thought has gone unspoken and many a sneaky vote uncast. The reason is the fear inspired by the reproving presence of one noble man." As a rule, sheer grit and character prevail. In the presence of men full of grit and sound in character, meanness and baseness slink out of sight. Mean men feel uncomfortable, dishonesty trembles, and hypocrisy loses its confidence.

Lincoln, being asked by an anxious visitor what he would do after three or four years if the rebellion were not subdued, replied: "Oh, there is no alternative but to keep pegging away."

An anxious visitor asked Lincoln what he would do if the rebellion had not been defeated after three or four years. Lincoln replied: "Oh, there is no choice but to keep trying."

"It is in me and it shall come out," said Sheridan, when told that he would never make an orator as he had failed in his first speech in Parliament. He became known as one of the foremost orators of his day.

"It is in me, and it will come out," said Sheridan. After his first speech in Parliament failed, he was told he would never become a great speaker. He became known as one of the finest speakers of his day.

When a boy Henry Clay was very bashful and diffident, and scarcely dared recite before his class at school, but he determined to become an orator. So he committed speeches and recited them in the cornfields, or in the barn with the horse and cows for an audience.

As a boy, Henry Clay was very shy and lacked confidence. He hardly dared recite in front of his class at school, but he decided to become a public speaker. So he memorized speeches and recited them in the cornfields or in the barn, with the horse and cows as his audience.

If impossibilities ever exist, popularly speaking, they ought to have been found somewhere between the birth and death of Kitto, that deaf pauper and master of Oriental learning. But Kitto did not find them there. In the presence of his decision and imperial energy they melted away. He begged his father to take him out of the poorhouse, even if he had to subsist like the Hottentots. He told him that he would sell his books and pawn his handkerchief, by which he thought he could raise about twelve shillings. He said he could live upon blackberries, nuts, and field turnips, and was willing to sleep on a hayrick. Here was real grit. What were impossibilities to such a resolute, indomitable will?

If anything could ever be called impossible, surely it would have appeared during Kitto’s lifetime. He was a deaf pauper who became a master of Oriental learning. But Kitto found no impossibilities in his life. They melted away before his determination and commanding energy. He begged his father to take him out of the poorhouse, even if he had to live like the Hottentots. He told his father he would sell his books and pawn his handkerchief. He thought he could raise about twelve shillings that way. He said he could live on blackberries, nuts, and field turnips, and was willing to sleep on a haystack. That was real grit. What could be impossible for someone with such a determined, unconquerable will?

Grit is a permanent, solid quality, which enters into the very structure, the very tissues of the constitution.

Grit is a lasting, solid quality woven into the very fabric of a person's constitution.

Many of our generals in the Civil War exhibited heroism; they were "plucky," and often displayed great determination, but Grant had pure "grit" in the most concentrated form. He could not be moved from his base; he was self-centered, immovable. "If you try to wheedle out of him his plans for a campaign, he stolidly smokes; if you call him an imbecile and a blunderer, he blandly lights another cigar; if you praise him as the greatest general living, he placidly returns the puff from his regalia; and if you tell him he should run for the presidency, it does not disturb the equanimity with which he inhales and exhales the unsubstantial vapor which typifies the politician's promises. While you are wondering what kind of creature this man without a tongue is, you are suddenly electrified with the news of some splendid victory; proving that behind the cigar, and behind the face discharged of all telltale expression, is the best brain to plan and the strongest heart to dare among the generals of the Republic."

Many of our generals in the Civil War showed heroism. They were "plucky" and often showed great determination. But Grant had pure "grit" in its most concentrated form. He could not be moved from his position. He was self-contained and immovable. "If you try to coax his campaign plans out of him, he silently smokes. If you call him a fool and a blunderer, he calmly lights another cigar. If you praise him as the greatest living general, he calmly puffs on his cigar. And if you tell him he should run for the presidency, he remains just as calm. He breathes in and out the insubstantial smoke that represents a politician's promises. As you wonder what kind of creature this man without a tongue is, news of a splendid victory suddenly thrills you. It proves what lies behind the cigar and the expressionless face. There are the best brain for planning and the strongest heart for daring among the generals of the Republic."

Lincoln had pure "grit." When the illustrated papers everywhere were caricaturing him, when no epithet seemed too harsh to heap upon him, when his methods were criticized by his own party, and the generals in the war were denouncing his "foolish" confidence in Grant, and delegations were waiting upon him to ask for that general's removal, the great President sat with crossed legs, and was reminded of a story.

Lincoln had pure "grit." Illustrated newspapers everywhere were making fun of him in cartoons. No insult seemed too harsh to heap on him. His own party criticized his methods, and the generals in the war denounced his "foolish" confidence in Grant. Delegations came to ask him to remove Grant. Through it all, the great President sat with his legs crossed and was reminded of a story.

Lincoln and Grant both had that rare nerve which cares not for ridicule, is not swerved by public clamor, can bear abuse and hatred. There is a mighty force in truth, and in the sublime conviction and supreme self-confidence behind it; in the knowledge that truth is mighty, and the conviction and confidence that it will prevail.

Lincoln and Grant both had the rare courage to ignore ridicule and resist public pressure. They could endure abuse and hatred. Truth has great power, as do the profound conviction and supreme self-confidence behind it. There is great power, too, in knowing that truth is strong and believing with confidence that it will prevail.

Pure grit is that element of character which enables a man to clutch his aim with an iron grip, and keep the needle of his purpose pointing to the star of his hope. Through sunshine and storm, through hurricane and tempest, through sleet and rain, with a leaky ship, with a crew in mutiny, it perseveres; in fact, nothing but death can subdue it, and it dies still struggling.

Pure grit is the strength of character that lets a man hold his goal in an iron grip. It keeps the needle of his purpose pointing toward the star of his hope. It perseveres through sunshine and storms, hurricanes and tempests, sleet and rain. It perseveres even with a leaky ship and a crew in mutiny. In fact, nothing but death can defeat it, and it dies still struggling.

The man of grit carries in his very presence a power which controls and commands. He is spared the necessity of declaring himself, for his grit speaks in his every act. It does not come by fits and starts, it is a part of his life. It inspires a sublime audacity and a heroic courage. Many of the failures of life are due to the want of grit or business nerve. It is unfortunate for a young man to start out in business life with a weak, yielding disposition, with no resolution or backbone to mark his own course and stick to it; with no ability to say "No" with an emphasis, obliging this man by investing in hopeless speculation, and, rather than offend a friend, indorsing a questionable note.

A man with grit has a commanding presence that gives him power over others. He does not need to declare who he is, because his grit speaks through everything he does. It does not come and go. It is part of his life. It inspires extraordinary boldness and heroic courage. Many failures in life result from a lack of grit or business nerve. A young man is at a disadvantage if he enters business with a weak, yielding nature. Without the resolve or backbone to set his own course and stick to it, he cannot say "No" firmly. He may do someone a favor by investing in a hopeless speculation or endorse a questionable promissory note rather than offend a friend.

A little boy was asked how he learned to skate. "Oh, by getting up every time I fell down," he replied.

A little boy was asked how he learned to skate. "Oh, by getting up every time I fell," he replied.

Whipple tells a story of Masséna which illustrates the masterful purpose that plucks victory out of the jaws of defeat. "After the defeat at Essling, the success of Napoleon's attempt to withdraw his beaten army depended on the character of Masséna, to whom the Emperor dispatched a messenger, telling him to keep his position for two hours longer at Aspern. This order, couched in the form of a request, required almost an impossibility; but Napoleon knew the indomitable tenacity of the man to whom he gave it. The messenger found Masséna seated on a heap of rubbish, his eyes bloodshot, his frame weakened by his unparalleled exertions during a contest of forty hours, and his whole appearance indicating a physical state better befitting the hospital than the field. But that steadfast soul seemed altogether unaffected by bodily prostration. Half dead as he was with fatigue, he rose painfully and said courageously, 'Tell the Emperor that I will hold out for two hours.' And he kept his word."

Whipple tells a story about Masséna that shows how a determined will can snatch victory from the jaws of defeat. "After the defeat at Essling, Napoleon tried to withdraw his beaten army. His success depended on Masséna. The Emperor sent a messenger to ask him to hold his position at Aspern for two more hours. Though phrased as a request, the order demanded almost the impossible. But Napoleon knew Masséna's unyielding determination. The messenger found Masséna sitting on a pile of rubble, his eyes bloodshot. His body was weakened by his extraordinary efforts during forty hours of fighting. He looked as though he belonged in a hospital rather than on the battlefield. But his steadfast spirit seemed entirely unaffected by his physical exhaustion. Though half dead with fatigue, he rose painfully and said bravely, 'Tell the Emperor that I will hold out for two hours.' And he kept his word."

"Often defeated in battle," said Macaulay of Alexander the Great, "he was always successful in war."

"Often defeated in battle," Macaulay said of Alexander the Great, "he was always successful in war."

In the battle of Marengo, the Austrians considered the day won. The French army was inferior in numbers, and had given way. The Austrian army extended its wings on the right and on the left, to follow up the French. Then, though the French themselves thought that the battle was lost, and the Austrians were confident it was won, Napoleon gave the command to charge; and, the trumpet's blast being given, the Old Guard charged down into the weakened center of the enemy, cut it in two, rolled the two wings up on either side, and the battle was won for France.

At the Battle of Marengo, the Austrians believed they had won. The French army was outnumbered and had fallen back. The Austrians extended their wings on both sides to pursue the French. The French themselves thought the battle was lost, and the Austrians were confident they had won. Yet Napoleon ordered a charge. At the sound of the trumpet, the Old Guard charged into the enemy's weakened center and cut it in two. They drove the two wings back on either side, and France won the battle.

Once when Marshal Ney was going into battle, looking down at his knees which were smiting together, he said, "You may well shake; you would shake worse yet if you knew where I am going to take you."

Once, as Marshal Ney was going into battle, he looked down at his knocking knees. He said, "You have good reason to shake. You would shake even more if you knew where I am going to take you."

It is victory after victory with the soldier, lesson after lesson with the scholar, blow after blow with the laborer, crop after crop with the farmer, picture after picture with the painter, and mile after mile with the traveler, that secures what all so much desire—SUCCESS.

The soldier wins victory after victory. The scholar learns lesson after lesson. The laborer strikes blow after blow. The farmer gathers crop after crop. The painter creates picture after picture. The traveler covers mile after mile. This is how they achieve what all desire so much: SUCCESS.

A promising Harvard student was stricken with paralysis of both legs. Physicians said there was no hope for him. The lad determined to continue his college studies. The examiners heard him at his bedside, and in four years he took his degree. He resolved to make a critical study of Dante, to do which he had to learn Italian and German. He persevered in spite of repeated attacks of illness and partial loss of sight. He was competing for the university prize. Think of the paralytic lad, helpless in bed, competing for a prize, fighting death inch by inch! What a lesson! Before his manuscript was published or the prize awarded, the brave student died, but his work was successful.

A promising Harvard student became paralyzed in both legs. Doctors said there was no hope for him. The young man decided to continue his college studies. The examiners tested him at his bedside, and in four years he earned his degree. He decided to make a critical study of Dante. To do so, he had to learn Italian and German. He kept working despite repeated bouts of illness and partial loss of sight. He was competing for the university prize. Think of the paralyzed young man, helpless in bed, competing for a prize and fighting death inch by inch! What a lesson! The brave student died before his manuscript was published or the prize awarded, but his work was successful.

Congressman William W. Crapo, while working his way through college, being too poor to buy a dictionary, actually copied one, walking from his home in the village of Dartmouth, Mass., to New Bedford to replenish his store of words and definitions from the town library.

While working his way through college, Congressman William W. Crapo was too poor to buy a dictionary. So he actually copied one. He walked from his home in the village of Dartmouth, Massachusetts, to the town library in New Bedford to copy more words and definitions.

Oh, the triumphs of this indomitable spirit of the conqueror! This it was that enabled Franklin to dine on a small loaf in the printing-office with a book in his hand. It helped Locke to live on bread and water in a Dutch garret. It enabled Gideon Lee to go barefoot in the snow, half starved and thinly clad. It sustained Lincoln and Garfield on their hard journeys from the log cabin to the White House.

Oh, the triumphs of this unstoppable spirit of conquest! It enabled Franklin to eat a small loaf of bread in the printing office while reading a book. It helped Locke live on bread and water in a Dutch attic. It enabled Gideon Lee to walk barefoot in the snow, half starved and poorly dressed. It sustained Lincoln and Garfield on their difficult journeys from the log cabin to the White House.

President Chadbourne put grit in place of his lost lung, and worked thirty-five years after his funeral had been planned.

President Chadbourne made up for his lost lung with grit. He worked for thirty-five years after his funeral had been planned.

Henry Fawcett put grit in place of eyesight, and became the greatest Postmaster-General England ever had.

Henry Fawcett made up for his blindness with grit and became the greatest Postmaster-General England ever had.

Prescott also put grit in place of eyesight, and became one of America's greatest historians. Francis Parkman put grit in place of health and eyesight, and became the greatest historian of America in his line. Thousands of men have put grit in place of health, eyes, ears, hands, legs and yet have achieved marvelous success. Indeed, most of the great things of the world have been accomplished by grit and pluck. You can not keep a man down who has these qualities. He will make stepping-stones out of his stumbling-blocks, and lift himself to success.

Prescott also made up for his lack of eyesight with grit and became one of America's greatest historians. Francis Parkman made up for his poor health and eyesight with grit. He became the greatest historian of America in his field. Thousands of men have used grit to overcome the loss of health, sight, hearing, hands, or legs. Yet they have achieved marvelous success. In fact, grit and courage have accomplished most of the world's great things. You cannot keep a man down who has these qualities. He will turn his stumbling blocks into stepping stones and use them to rise to success.

At fifty, Barnum was a ruined man, owing thousands more than he possessed, yet he resolutely resumed business once more, fairly wringing success from adverse fortune, and paying his notes at the same time. Again and again he was ruined; but phoenix-like, he rose repeatedly from the ashes of his misfortune each time more determined than before.

At fifty, Barnum was ruined, owing thousands more than he owned. Yet he determinedly started doing business again. He wrested success from bad fortune while paying off his debts. Again and again he was ruined. But each time, like a phoenix, he rose from the ashes of his misfortune, more determined than before.

"It is all very well," said Charles J. Fox, "to tell me that a young man has distinguished himself by a brilliant first speech. He may go on, or he may be satisfied with his first triumph; but show me a young man who has not succeeded at first, and nevertheless has gone on, and I will back that young man to do better than most of those who have succeeded at the first trial."

"It is easy enough," said Charles J. Fox, "to tell me that a young man has made a brilliant first speech. He may keep going, or he may be satisfied with his first success. But show me a young man who failed at first and kept going anyway. I would bet on him to do better than most who succeeded on their first try."

Cobden broke down completely the first time he appeared on a platform in Manchester, and the chairman apologized for him. But he did not give up speaking till every poor man in England had a larger, better, and cheaper loaf.

Cobden completely broke down the first time he spoke in public in Manchester. The chairman apologized for him. But Cobden kept speaking until every poor man in England had a larger, better, and cheaper loaf of bread.

See young Disraeli, sprung from a hated and persecuted race; without opportunity, pushing his way up through the middle classes, up through the upper classes, until he stands self-poised upon the topmost round of political and social power. Scoffed, ridiculed, rebuffed, hissed from the House of Commons, he simply says, "The time will come when you will hear me." The time did come, and the boy with no chance swayed the scepter of England for a quarter of a century.

Look at young Disraeli, born into a hated and persecuted race. With no opportunities, he pushed his way up through the middle and upper classes. At last, he stood confidently at the very top of political and social power. He was mocked, ridiculed, turned away, and hissed out of the House of Commons. He simply said, "The time will come when you will hear me." That time did come. The boy who had no chance wielded England’s scepter for a quarter of a century.

One of the most remarkable examples in history is Disraeli, forcing his leadership upon that very party whose prejudices were deepest against his race, and which had an utter contempt for self-made men and interlopers. Imagine England's surprise when she awoke to find this insignificant Hebrew actually Chancellor of the Exchequer! He was easily master of all the tortures supplied by the armory of rhetoric; he could exhaust the resources of the bitterest invective; he could sting Gladstone out of his self-control; he was absolute master of himself and his situation. You could see that this young man intended to make his way in the world. Determined audacity was in his very face. Handsome, with the hated Hebrew blood in his veins, after three defeats in parliamentary elections he was not the least daunted, for he knew his day would come. Lord Melbourne, the great Prime Minister, when this gay young fop was introduced to him, asked him what he wished to be. "Prime Minister of England," was his audacious reply.

One of the most remarkable examples in history is Disraeli. He forced his leadership upon the very party whose prejudices against his race were deepest. The party also had utter contempt for self-made men and interlopers. Imagine England's surprise when it woke to find this insignificant Hebrew actually Chancellor of the Exchequer! He was easily master of every torture in the arsenal of rhetoric. He could exhaust every resource of the bitterest verbal abuse. He could sting Gladstone into losing his self-control. Yet he had complete control of himself and his situation. You could see that this young man intended to make his way in the world. His face showed his bold determination. He was handsome, with the hated Hebrew blood in his veins. After three defeats in parliamentary elections, he was not the least discouraged, for he knew his day would come. When this lively young dandy was introduced to Lord Melbourne, the great Prime Minister asked him what he wished to be. "Prime Minister of England," was his bold reply.

William H. Seward was given a thousand dollars by his father with which to go to college; this was all he was to have. The son returned at the end of the freshman year with extravagant habits and no money. His father refused to give him more, and told him he could not stay at home. When the youth found the props all taken out from under him, and that he must now sink or swim, he left home moneyless, returned to college, graduated at the head of his class, studied law, was elected Governor of New York, and became Lincoln's great Secretary of State during the Civil War.

William H. Seward’s father gave him a thousand dollars for college. That was all the money he would receive. At the end of his freshman year, Seward returned home with extravagant habits and no money. His father refused to give him more and told him he could not stay at home. The young man found himself without support and knew he had to sink or swim. So he left home without money and returned to college. He graduated at the top of his class, studied law, and was elected Governor of New York. He went on to become Lincoln’s great Secretary of State during the Civil War.

Garfield said, "If the power to do hard work is not talent, it is the best possible substitute for it." The triumph of industry and grit over low birth and iron fortune in America, the land of opportunity, ought to be sufficient to put to shame all grumblers over their hard fortune and those who attempt to excuse aimless, shiftless, successless men because they have no chance.

Garfield said, "If the ability to work hard is not talent, it is the best possible substitute for it." In America, the land of opportunity, hard work and grit have triumphed over humble origins and harsh circumstances. This should shame all who complain about their hard luck. It should also shame those who excuse aimless, lazy, unsuccessful men because they have no chance.

During a winter in the War of 1812, General Jackson's troops, unprovided for and starving, became mutinous and were going home. But the general set the example of living on acorns; and then he rode before the rebellious line and threatened with instant death the first mutineer that should try to leave.

During one winter in the War of 1812, General Jackson's troops had no supplies and were starving. They began to mutiny and were going home. But the general set an example by living on acorns. Then he rode in front of the rebellious troops. He threatened to immediately kill the first mutineer who tried to leave.

The race is not always to the swift, the battle is not always to the strong. Horses are sometimes weighted or hampered in the race, and this is taken into account in the result. So in the race of life the distance alone does not determine the prize. We must take into consideration the hindrances, the weights we have carried, the disadvantages of education, of breeding, of training, of surroundings, of circumstances. How many young men are weighted down with debt, with poverty, with the support of invalid parents or brothers and sisters, or friends? How many are fettered with ignorance, hampered by inhospitable surroundings, with the opposition of parents who do not understand them? How many a round boy is hindered in the race by being forced into a square hole? How many youths are delayed in their course because nobody believes in them, because nobody encourages them, because they get no sympathy and are forever tortured for not doing that against which every fiber of their being protests, and every drop of their blood rebels? How many men have to feel their way to the goal through the blindness of ignorance and lack of experience? How many go bungling along from the lack of early discipline and drill in the vocation they have chosen? How many have to hobble along on crutches because they were never taught to help themselves, but have been accustomed to lean upon a father's wealth or a mother's indulgence? How many are weakened for the journey of life by self-indulgence, by dissipation, by "life-sappers"; how many are crippled by disease, by a weak constitution, by impaired eyesight or hearing?

The race does not always go to the swift, nor the battle to the strong. Horses are sometimes given extra weight or otherwise held back in a race, and the result takes this into account. So in the race of life, distance alone does not determine the prize. We must consider the obstacles and burdens we have carried. We must also consider disadvantages in education, upbringing, training, surroundings, and circumstances. How many young men are weighed down by debt, poverty, or the need to support sick parents, siblings, or friends? How many are held back by ignorance, unwelcoming surroundings, or opposition from parents who do not understand them? How many boys are held back in the race because they are like round pegs forced into square holes? How many young people are delayed because nobody believes in them or encourages them? They get no sympathy and are constantly tormented for not doing what every fiber of their being and every drop of their blood rebels against. How many men must feel their way toward the goal, blinded by ignorance and lack of experience? How many stumble along because they lacked early discipline and practice in their chosen work? How many must hobble along on crutches because they were never taught to help themselves? Instead, they have grown used to relying on a father's wealth or a mother's indulgence. How many are weakened for life's journey by self-indulgence, excessive living, and "life-sappers"? How many are disabled by disease, a weak constitution, or impaired sight or hearing?

When the prizes of life shall be finally awarded, the distance we have run, the weights we have carried, the handicaps, will all be taken into account. Not the distance we have run, but the obstacles we have overcome, the disadvantages under which we have made the race, will decide the prizes. The poor wretch who has plodded along against unknown temptations, the poor woman who has buried her sorrows in her silent heart and sewed her weary way through life, those who have suffered abuse in silence, and who have been unrecognized or despised by their fellow-runners, will often receive the greater prize.

When the prizes of life are finally awarded, the distance we have run will be taken into account. So will the burdens we have carried and the disadvantages we have faced. But the prizes will be decided not by distance, but by the obstacles we have overcome and the disadvantages we have faced in the race. Some will often receive the greater prize: the poor person who has struggled on against temptations no one else knew about, the poor woman who has kept her sorrows to herself and sewn her weary way through life, and those who have suffered abuse in silence and gone unrecognized or been despised by their fellow runners.

"I can't, it is impossible," said a foiled lieutenant, to Alexander. "Begone," shouted the conquering Macedonian, "there is nothing impossible to him who will try."

"I can't. It's impossible," a defeated lieutenant told Alexander. "Go away!" shouted the conquering Macedonian. "Nothing is impossible for someone who is willing to try."

Were I called upon to express in a word the secret of so many failures among those who started out in life with high hopes, I should say unhesitatingly, they lacked will-power. They could not half will. What is a man without a will? He is like an engine without steam, a mere sport of chance, to be tossed about hither and thither, always at the mercy of those who have wills. I should call the strength of will the test of a young man's possibilities. Can he will strong enough, and hold whatever he undertakes with an iron grip? It is the iron grip that takes the strong hold on life. What chance is there in this crowding, pushing, selfish, greedy world, where everything is pusher or pushed, for a young man with no will, no grip on life? "The truest wisdom," said Napoleon, "is a resolute determination." An iron will without principle might produce a Napoleon; but with character it would make a Wellington or a Grant, untarnished by ambition or avarice.

If I had to name the secret behind so many failures among people who started life with high hopes, I would not hesitate. They lacked willpower. They could barely make themselves will anything. What is a man without a will? He is like an engine without steam, a plaything of chance, tossed here and there. He is always at the mercy of those who have wills. I would call strength of will the test of a young man's potential. Can he will strongly enough and hold on to whatever he undertakes with an iron grip? It is that iron grip that gives him a strong hold on life. What chance does a young man without will or a grip on life have in this crowded, competitive, selfish, greedy world? In this world, everything either pushes or is pushed. "The truest wisdom," said Napoleon, "is a resolute determination." An iron will without principle might produce a Napoleon. But with character, it would make a Wellington or a Grant, untainted by ambition or greed.