Chapter 26
Success Despite Difficulties
Victories that are easy are cheap. Those only are worth having which come as the result of hard fighting.—BEECHER.
Easy victories are cheap. Only those won through hard fighting are worth having. BEECHER.
Little minds are tamed and subdued by misfortunes; but great minds rise above them.—WASHINGTON IRVING.
Small minds are weakened and subdued by misfortune, but great minds rise above it. Washington Irving.
"I have here three teams that I want to get over to Staten Island," said a boy of twelve one day in 1806 to the innkeeper at South Amboy, N. J. "If you will put us across, I'll leave with you one of my horses in pawn, and if I don't send you back six dollars within forty-eight hours you may keep the horse."
"I have three teams here that I want to get over to Staten Island," a twelve-year-old boy said one day in 1806. He was speaking to the innkeeper in South Amboy, N. J. "If you take us across, I'll leave one of my horses with you as security. If I don't send you six dollars within forty-eight hours, you can keep the horse."
The innkeeper asked the reason for this novel proposition, and learned that the lad's father had contracted to get the cargo of a vessel stranded near Sandy Hook, and take it to New York in lighters. The boy had been sent with three wagons, six horses, and three men, to carry the cargo across a sand-spit to the lighters. The work accomplished, he had started with only six dollars to travel a long distance home over the Jersey sands, and reached South Amboy penniless. "I'll do it," said the innkeeper, as he looked into the bright honest eyes of the boy. The horse was soon redeemed.
The innkeeper asked why the boy had made this unusual proposal. He learned that the boy's father had contracted to take the cargo from a ship stranded near Sandy Hook to New York in lighters. The boy had been sent with three wagons, six horses, and three men to carry the cargo across a sand-spit to the lighters. Once the work was done, he had set out on the long journey home across the Jersey sands with only six dollars. He reached South Amboy penniless. "I'll do it," said the innkeeper, looking into the boy's bright, honest eyes. The horse was soon redeemed.
"My son," said this same boy's mother, on the first of May, 1810, when he asked her to lend him one hundred dollars to buy a boat, having imbibed a strong liking for the sea; "on the twenty-seventh of this month you will be sixteen years old. If, by that time, you will plow, harrow, and plant with corn the eight-acre lot, I will advance you the money." The field was rough and stony, but the work was done in time, and well done. From this small beginning Cornelius Vanderbilt laid the foundation of a colossal fortune.
On May 1, 1810, this same boy asked his mother to lend him one hundred dollars to buy a boat. He had developed a strong liking for the sea. "My son," she said, "you will be sixteen years old on the twenty-seventh of this month. If you plow, harrow, and plant the eight-acre lot with corn by then, I will lend you the money." The field was rough and stony, but he finished the work on time and did it well. From this small beginning, Cornelius Vanderbilt laid the foundation of a colossal fortune.
In 1818 Vanderbilt owned two or three of the finest coasting schooners in New York harbor, and had a capital of nine thousand dollars. Seeing that steam-vessels would soon win supremacy over those carrying sails only, he gave up his fine business to become the captain of a steamboat at one thousand dollars a year. For twelve years he ran between New York City and New Brunswick, N. J. In 1829 he began business as a steamboat owner, in the face of opposition so bitter that he lost his last dollar. But the tide turned, and he prospered so rapidly that he at length owned over a hundred steamboats. He early identified himself with the growing railroad interests of the country, and became the richest man of his day in America.
In 1818 Vanderbilt owned two or three of the finest coastal schooners in New York harbor. He had nine thousand dollars in capital. He saw that steamships would soon overtake ships powered only by sails. So he gave up his successful business to become a steamboat captain, earning one thousand dollars a year. For twelve years he traveled between New York City and New Brunswick, N. J. In 1829 he went into business as a steamboat owner. He faced such bitter opposition that he lost his last dollar. But his fortunes turned, and he prospered so quickly that he eventually owned more than a hundred steamboats. He became involved early in the country’s growing railroad industry and became the richest man of his day in America.
Barnum began the race of business life barefoot, for at the age of fifteen he was obliged to buy on credit the shoes he wore at his father's funeral. He was a remarkable example of success under difficulties. There was no keeping him down; no opposition daunted him.
Barnum started out in business barefoot. At fifteen, he had to buy the shoes he wore to his father's funeral on credit. He was a remarkable example of success despite hardship. Nothing could keep him down. No opposition discouraged him.
"Eloquence must have been born with you," said a friend to J. P. Curran. "Indeed, my dear sir, it was not," replied the orator; "it was born some three and twenty years and some months after me." Speaking of his first attempt at a debating club, he said: "I stood up, trembling through every fiber; but remembering that in this I was but imitating Tully, I took courage and had actually proceeded almost as far as 'Mr. Chairman,' when, to my astonishment and terror, I perceived that every eye was turned on me. There were only six or seven present, and the room could not have contained as many more; yet was it, to my panic-stricken imagination, as if I were the central object in nature, and assembled millions were gazing upon me in breathless expectation. I became dismayed and dumb. My friends cried, 'Hear him!' but there was nothing to hear." He was nicknamed "Orator Mum," and well did he deserve the title until he ventured to stare in astonishment at a speaker who was "culminating chronology by the most preposterous anachronisms." "I doubt not," said the annoyed speaker, "that 'Orator Mum' possesses wonderful talents for eloquence, but I would recommend him to show it in future by some more popular method than his silence." Stung by the taunt, Curran rose and gave the man a "piece of his mind," speaking fluently in his anger. Encouraged by this success, he took great pains to become a good speaker. He corrected his habit of stuttering by reading favorite passages aloud every day slowly and distinctly, and spoke at every opportunity.
"Eloquence must have been born with you," a friend said to J. P. Curran. "Indeed, my dear sir, it was not," the orator replied. "It was born about twenty-three years and a few months after me." Speaking of his first attempt at a debating club, he said: "I stood up, trembling in every fiber of my body. But I remembered that Tully had done the same, so I took courage. I had actually gotten almost as far as 'Mr. Chairman' when I saw, to my astonishment and terror, that every eye was on me. Only six or seven people were present, and the room could not have held that many more. Yet in my panic, I felt as if I were the center of the universe. It was as if millions had gathered and were staring at me in breathless expectation. I was so frightened that I could not speak. My friends cried, 'Hear him!' but there was nothing to hear." He was nicknamed "Orator Mum," and he deserved the title. Then one day he stared in astonishment at a speaker who was "piling up the most absurd mistakes in chronology." "I do not doubt," said the annoyed speaker, "that 'Orator Mum' has a wonderful gift for eloquence. But I would recommend that he show it in the future by some more popular method than silence." Stung by the taunt, Curran rose and gave the man a "piece of his mind," speaking fluently in his anger. Encouraged by this success, he worked hard to become a good speaker. To correct his stutter, he read favorite passages aloud every day, slowly and clearly. He also spoke at every opportunity.
Bunyan wrote his "Pilgrim's Progress" on the untwisted papers which were used to cork the bottles of milk brought for his meals. Gifford wrote his first copy of a mathematical work, when a cobbler's apprentice, on small scraps of leather; and Rittenhouse, the astronomer, first calculated eclipses on his plow handle.
Bunyan wrote "Pilgrim's Progress" on papers he untwisted from the tops of the milk bottles brought with his meals. While apprenticed to a shoemaker, Gifford wrote the first copy of a mathematical work on small scraps of leather. Rittenhouse, the astronomer, first calculated eclipses on the handle of his plow.
David Livingstone at ten years of age was put into a cotton factory near Glasgow. Out of his first week's wages he bought a Latin grammar, and studied in the night schools for years. He would sit up and study till midnight unless his mother drove him to bed, notwithstanding he had to be at the factory at six in the morning. He mastered Vergil and Horace in this way, and read extensively, besides studying botany. So eager for knowledge was he, that he would place his book before him on the spinning-jenny, and amid the deafening roar of machinery would pore over its pages.
At age ten, David Livingstone was sent to work in a cotton factory near Glasgow. With his first week's wages, he bought a Latin grammar book. For years, he studied at night schools. He would study until midnight unless his mother sent him to bed, even though he had to be at the factory at six in the morning. In this way, he mastered Vergil and Horace. He also read widely and studied botany. He was so eager to learn that he would place his book on the spinning-jenny in front of him. There, amid the deafening roar of the machinery, he would pore over its pages.
"All the performances of human art, at which we look with praise and wonder," says Johnson, "are instances of the resistless force of perseverance: it is by this that the quarry becomes a pyramid, and that distant countries are united with canals. If a man was to compare the effect of a single stroke of the pickax, or of one impression of the spade, with the general design and last result, he would be overwhelmed by the sense of their disproportion; yet those petty operations, incessantly continued, in time surmount the greatest difficulties, and mountains are leveled, and oceans bounded, by the slender force of human beings."
"All the works of human skill that we praise and marvel at," says Johnson, "show the unstoppable power of perseverance. Perseverance turns stone from a quarry into a pyramid and connects distant countries by canals. If a man compared one swing of a pickax or one thrust of a spade with the overall plan and final result, he would be overwhelmed by how little each action accomplishes. Yet these small actions, repeated without stopping, eventually overcome the greatest difficulties. By such means, human beings level mountains and hold back oceans, despite their limited strength."
Great men never wait for opportunities; they make them. Nor do they wait for facilities or favoring circumstances; they seize upon whatever is at hand, work out their problem, and master the situation. A young man determined and willing will find a way or make one. A Franklin does not require elaborate apparatus; he can bring electricity from the clouds with a common kite.
Great men never wait for opportunities. They create them. They do not wait for resources or favorable circumstances either. They use whatever is at hand, solve their problems, and take control of the situation. A determined and willing young man will find a way or make one. A Franklin does not need elaborate equipment. He can draw electricity from the clouds with an ordinary kite.
Great men have found no royal road to their triumph. It is always the old route, by way of industry and perseverance.
Great men have found no shortcut to success. The path is always the same: hard work and perseverance.
The farmer boy, Elihu B. Washburn, taught school at ten dollars per month, and early learned the lesson that it takes one hundred cents to make a dollar. In after years he fought "steals" in Congress, until he was called the "Watchdog of the Treasury."
As a farm boy, Elihu B. Washburn taught school for ten dollars a month. He learned early that it takes one hundred cents to make a dollar. Years later, he fought "steals" in Congress until he was called the "Watchdog of the Treasury."
When Elias Howe, harassed by want and woe, was in London completing his first sewing-machine, he had frequently to borrow money to live on. He bought beans and cooked them himself. He also borrowed money to send his wife back to America. He sold his first machine for five pounds, although it was worth fifty, and then he pawned his letters patent to pay his expenses home.
While Elias Howe was in London completing his first sewing machine, he struggled with poverty and hardship. He often had to borrow money to live on. He bought beans and cooked them himself. He also borrowed money to send his wife back to America. He sold his first machine for five pounds, although it was worth fifty. Then he pawned his patent to pay for his trip home.
The boy Arkwright begins barbering in a cellar, but dies worth a million and a half. The world treated his novelties just as it treats everybody's novelties—made infinite objection, mustered all the impediments, but he snapped his fingers at their objections, and lived to become honored and wealthy.
As a boy, Arkwright began cutting hair in a cellar, but he died worth a million and a half. The world treated his new ideas just as it treats everyone’s new ideas. It raised endless objections and put every obstacle in his way. But he brushed aside their objections and lived to become honored and wealthy.
There is scarcely a great truth or doctrine but has had to fight its way to public recognition in the face of detraction, calumny, and persecution.
Almost every great truth or doctrine has had to fight for public recognition against criticism, slander, and persecution.
Nearly every great discovery or invention that has blessed mankind has had to fight its way to recognition, even against the opposition of the most progressive men.
Nearly every great discovery or invention that has benefited humanity has had to fight for recognition, even against opposition from the most progressive people.
William H. Prescott was a remarkable example of what a boy with "no chance" can do. While at college, he lost one eye by a hard piece of bread thrown during a "biscuit battle," and the other eye became almost useless. But the boy would not lead a useless life. He set his heart upon being a historian, and turned all his energies in that direction. By the aid of others' eyes, he spent ten years studying before he even decided upon a particular theme for his first book. Then he spent ten years more, poring over old archives and manuscripts, before he published his "Ferdinand and Isabella." What a lesson in his life for young men! What a rebuke to those who have thrown away their opportunities and wasted their lives!
William H. Prescott was a remarkable example of what a boy with "no chance" can do. In college, he lost one eye when someone threw a hard piece of bread during a "biscuit battle." His other eye became almost useless. But he refused to lead a useless life. He decided to become a historian and devoted all his energy to that goal. With others reading for him, he studied for ten years before choosing a subject for his first book. Then he spent ten more years studying old archives and manuscripts before publishing "Ferdinand and Isabella." What a lesson his life offers young men! What a rebuke to those who have thrown away their opportunities and wasted their lives!
"Galileo with an opera-glass," said Emerson, "discovered a more splendid series of celestial phenomena than any one since with the great telescopes. Columbus found the new world in an undecked boat."
"Using an opera glass," said Emerson, "Galileo discovered a more splendid series of celestial phenomena than anyone since has discovered with powerful telescopes. Columbus found the New World in a boat without a deck."
Surroundings which men call unfavorable can not prevent the unfolding of your powers. From among the rock-ribbed hills of New Hampshire sprang the greatest of American orators and statesmen, Daniel Webster. From the crowded ranks of toil, and homes to which luxury is a stranger, have often come the leaders and benefactors of our race.
Circumstances that people call unfavorable cannot stop you from developing your abilities. Daniel Webster, the greatest of American orators and statesmen, came from the rocky hills of New Hampshire. The leaders and benefactors of humanity have often come from the ranks of working people and homes without luxury.
Where shall we find an illustration more impressive than in Abraham Lincoln, whose life, career, and death might be chanted by a Greek chorus as at once the prelude and the epilogue of the most imperial theme of modern times? Born as lowly as the Son of God, in a hovel; of what real parentage we know not; reared in penury, squalor, with no gleam of light, nor fair surrounding; a young manhood vexed by weird dreams and visions; with scarcely a natural grace; singularly awkward, ungainly even among the uncouth about him: it was reserved for this remarkable character, late in life, to be snatched from obscurity, raised to supreme command at a supreme moment, and intrusted with the destiny of a nation. The great leaders of his party were made to stand aside; the most experienced and accomplished men of the day, men like Seward, and Chase, and Sumner, statesmen famous and trained, were sent to the rear, while this strange figure was brought by unseen hands to the front, and given the reins of power.
Where can we find a more impressive example than Abraham Lincoln? A Greek chorus might chant his life, career, and death as both the prelude and the epilogue to the grandest story of modern times. He was born in a hovel, as lowly as the Son of God. We do not know his true parentage. He grew up in poverty and filth, without a ray of light or pleasant surroundings. As a young man, he was troubled by strange dreams and visions. He had hardly any natural grace. He was exceptionally awkward and clumsy, even among the rough people around him. Yet this remarkable man was brought out of obscurity late in life. He was given supreme command at a critical moment and entrusted with the destiny of a nation. The great leaders of his party were set aside. The most experienced and accomplished men of the day, men like Seward, Chase, and Sumner, were pushed to the rear. These were famous, well-trained statesmen. Yet unseen hands brought this strange figure to the front and gave him the reins of power.
There is no open door to the temple of success. Everyone who enters makes his own door, which closes behind him to all others, not even permitting his own children to pass.
There is no open door to the temple of success. Everyone who enters makes their own door. It closes behind them, leaving everyone else out, even their own children.
Not in the brilliant salon, not in the tapestried library, not in ease and competence, is genius born and nurtured; but often in adversity and destitution, amidst the harassing cares of a straitened household, in bare and fireless garrets. Amid scenes unpropitious, repulsive, wretched, have men labored, studied, and trained themselves, until they have at last emanated from the gloom of that obscurity the shining lights of their times; have become the companions of kings, the guides and teachers of their kind, and exercised an influence upon the thought of the world amounting to a species of intellectual legislation.
Genius is not born and nurtured in elegant salons or richly decorated libraries, amid comfort and financial security. It often grows instead in hardship and poverty, amid the constant worries of a struggling household, in bare, unheated attics. In bleak, unpleasant, and miserable surroundings, men have worked, studied, and trained themselves. At last, they have emerged from obscurity to become the shining lights of their times. They have become companions of kings and guides and teachers to others. Their influence on the world’s thinking has been so great that it amounts to a kind of intellectual lawmaking.
"What does he know," said a sage, "who has not suffered?" Schiller produced his greatest tragedies in the midst of physical suffering almost amounting to torture. Handel was never greater than when, warned by palsy of the approach of death, and struggling with distress and suffering, he sat down to compose the great works which have made his name immortal in music. Mozart composed his great operas, and last of all his "Requiem," when oppressed by debt and struggling with a fatal disease. Beethoven produced his greatest works amidst gloomy sorrow, when oppressed by almost total deafness.
"What does a person know," said a wise man, "who has never suffered?" Schiller wrote his greatest tragedies while enduring physical pain that was almost torture. Handel was never greater than when he sat down to compose the great works that made his name immortal in music. Paralysis had warned him that death was approaching, and he was struggling with distress and suffering. Mozart composed his great operas while burdened by debt and struggling with a fatal illness. His "Requiem" was the last work he composed. Beethoven produced his greatest works amid deep sorrow, burdened by almost total deafness.
Perhaps no one ever battled harder to overcome obstacles which would have disheartened most men than Demosthenes. He had such a weak voice, and such an impediment in his speech, and was so short of breath, that he could scarcely get through a single sentence without stopping to rest. All his first attempts were nearly drowned by the hisses, jeers, and scoffs of his audiences. His first effort that met with success was against his guardian, who had defrauded him, and whom he compelled to refund a part of his fortune. He was so discouraged by his defeats that he determined to give up forever all attempts at oratory. One of his auditors, however, believed the young man had something in him, and encouraged him to persevere. He accordingly appeared again in public, but was hissed down as before. As he withdrew, hanging his head in great confusion, a noted actor, Satyrus, encouraged him still further to try to overcome his impediment. He stammered so much that he could not pronounce some of the letters at all, and his breath would give out before he could get through a sentence. Finally, he determined to be an orator at any cost. He went to the seashore and practised amid the roar of the breakers with small pebbles in his mouth, in order to overcome his stammering, and at the same time accustom himself to the hisses and tumults of his audience. He overcame his short breath by practising while running up steep and difficult places on the shore. His awkward gestures were also corrected by long and determined drill before a mirror.
Perhaps no one ever fought harder than Demosthenes to overcome obstacles that would have discouraged most men. His voice was weak, he had a speech impediment, and he was so short of breath that he could hardly finish a sentence without stopping to rest. His first attempts were nearly drowned out by the hisses, jeers, and mockery of his audiences. His first successful effort was against his guardian, who had cheated him. Demosthenes forced him to return part of his fortune. Demosthenes was so discouraged by his defeats that he decided to give up public speaking forever. But one listener believed the young man had potential and encouraged him to keep trying. So he appeared in public again, but the audience hissed him down as before. As he withdrew, hanging his head in embarrassment, a well-known actor, Satyrus, urged him to keep trying to overcome his impediment. Demosthenes stammered so badly that he could not pronounce some letters at all. He would also run out of breath before finishing a sentence. Finally, he decided to become an orator at any cost. He went to the seashore and practiced with small pebbles in his mouth amid the roar of the waves. He did this to overcome his stammer and get used to the hisses and uproar of an audience. He overcame his shortness of breath by practicing while running up steep, difficult slopes along the shore. He also corrected his awkward gestures through long, determined practice in front of a mirror.
Columbus was dismissed as a fool from court after court, but he pushed his suit against an incredulous and ridiculing world. Rebuffed by kings, scorned by queens, he did not swerve a hair's breadth from the overmastering purpose which dominated his soul. The words "New World" were graven upon his heart; and reputation, ease, pleasure, position, life itself if need be, must be sacrificed. Threats, ridicule, ostracism, storms, leaky vessels, mutiny of sailors, could not shake his mighty purpose.
Columbus was dismissed as a fool by one royal court after another. But he kept making his case against a world that doubted and mocked him. Kings turned him away, and queens scorned him. Yet he never strayed in the slightest from the powerful purpose that ruled his soul. The words "New World" were engraved on his heart. He was prepared to sacrifice his reputation, comfort, pleasure, position, and even his life if necessary. Threats, ridicule, rejection, storms, leaky ships, and mutinous sailors could not shake his mighty resolve.
You can not keep a determined man from success. Place stumbling-blocks in his way and he takes them for stepping-stones, and on them will climb to greatness. Take away his money, and he makes spurs of his poverty to urge him on. Cripple him, and he writes the Waverley Novels.
You cannot keep a determined man from success. Put obstacles in his way, and he uses them as stepping stones to climb to greatness. Take away his money, and he uses his poverty to drive him forward. Cripple him, and he writes the Waverley Novels.
All that is great and noble and true in the history of the world is the result of infinite painstaking, perpetual plodding, of common every-day industry.
Everything great, noble, and true in world history is the result of endless care, steady persistence, and ordinary daily hard work.
Roger Bacon, one of the profoundest thinkers the world has produced, was terribly persecuted for his studies in natural philosophy, yet he persevered and won success. He was accused of dealing in magic, his books were burned in public, and he was kept in prison for ten years. Even our own revered Washington was mobbed in the streets because he would not pander to the clamor of the people and reject the treaty which Mr. Jay had arranged with Great Britain. But he remained firm, and the people adopted his opinion. The Duke of Wellington was mobbed in the streets of London and his windows were broken while his wife lay dead in the house; but the "Iron Duke" never faltered in his course, or swerved a hair's breadth from his purpose.
Roger Bacon was one of the deepest thinkers the world has produced. He was terribly persecuted for his studies of nature, yet he persevered and succeeded. He was accused of practicing magic, his books were burned in public, and he was imprisoned for ten years. Even our own revered Washington was attacked by a mob in the streets. He had refused to give in to public demands and reject the treaty Mr. Jay had negotiated with Great Britain. But he stood firm, and the people came to agree with him. The Duke of Wellington was attacked by a mob in the streets of London. His windows were broken while his wife lay dead in the house. But the "Iron Duke" never faltered or strayed even slightly from his purpose.
William Phipps, when a young man, heard some sailors on the street, in Boston, talking about a Spanish ship wrecked off the Bahama Islands, which was supposed to have money on board. Young Phipps determined to find it. He set out at once, and, after many hardships, discovered the lost treasure. He then heard of another ship, which had been wrecked off Port De La Plata many years before. He set sail for England and importuned Charles II for aid. To his delight the king fitted up the ship Rose Algier for him. He searched and searched for a long time in vain, and at length had to return to England to repair his vessel. James II was then on the throne, and Phipps had to wait for four years before he could raise money to return. His crew mutinied and threatened to throw him overboard, but he turned the ship's guns on them. One day an Indian diver went down for a curious sea plant and saw several cannon lying on the bottom. They proved to belong to the wreck. He had nothing but dim traditions to guide him, but he returned to England with $1,500,000.
As a young man in Boston, William Phipps heard sailors talking on the street about a Spanish shipwreck. The ship had gone down off the Bahama Islands and was thought to have money on board. Phipps decided to find it. He set out at once and, after many hardships, found the lost treasure. He then heard of another ship that had been wrecked off Port De La Plata many years earlier. He sailed to England and pleaded with Charles II for help. To his delight, the king outfitted the ship Rose Algier for him. Phipps searched for a long time without success. At last, he had to return to England to repair his ship. James II was then on the throne, and Phipps had to wait four years before he could raise money to return. His crew mutinied and threatened to throw him overboard, but he turned the ship's guns on them. One day, an Indian diver went down to collect an unusual sea plant and saw several cannons on the bottom. They turned out to belong to the wreck. Phipps had only vague stories to guide him, but he returned to England with $1,500,000.
A constant struggle, a ceaseless battle to win success in spite of every barrier, is the price of all great achievements.
All great achievements require constant struggle, a relentless battle for success despite every obstacle.
The man who has not fought his way up to his own loaf, and does not bear the scar of desperate conflict, does not know the highest meaning of success.
A man who has not fought to earn his own bread and bears no scars from desperate struggle does not know the highest meaning of success.
The money acquired by those who have thus struggled upward to success is not their only, or indeed their chief reward. When, after years of toil, of opposition, of ridicule, of repeated failure, Cyrus W. Field placed his hand upon the telegraph instrument ticking a message under the sea, think you that the electric thrill passed no further than the tips of his fingers? When Thomas A. Edison demonstrated that the electric light had at last been developed into a commercial success, do you suppose those bright rays failed to illuminate the inmost recesses of his soul?
The money earned by those who have struggled their way to success is not their only reward. It is not even their greatest reward. Cyrus W. Field worked for years, facing opposition, ridicule, and repeated failure. Then he placed his hand on the telegraph instrument ticking out a message beneath the sea. Do you think the electric thrill went no farther than his fingertips? Thomas A. Edison proved that the electric light had finally become a commercial success. Do you suppose its bright rays failed to light up the deepest corners of his soul?