The Uses of Obstacles

Nature, when she adds difficulties, adds brains.—EMERSON.

When nature adds difficulties, she also adds brains. EMERSON.

Many men owe the grandeur of their lives to their tremendous difficulties.—SPURGEON.

Many men owe the greatness of their lives to the tremendous difficulties they faced. SPURGEON.

"Adversity is the prosperity of the great."

"Hardship is success for great people."

"Kites rise against, not with, the wind."

"Kites rise against the wind, not with it."

"Many and many a time since," said Harriet Martineau, referring to her father's failure in business, "have we said that, but for that loss of money, we might have lived on in the ordinary provincial method of ladies with small means, sewing and economizing and growing narrower every year; whereas, by being thrown, while it was yet time, on our own resources, we have worked hard and usefully, won friends, reputation, and independence, seen the world abundantly, abroad and at home; in short, have truly lived instead of vegetating."

“Many times since then, we have said that without that loss of money, our lives might have been very different,” said Harriet Martineau, referring to her father’s business failure. “We might have lived the ordinary provincial lives of women with little money. We would have sewn, saved money, and grown narrower in outlook every year. Instead, we were forced to rely on ourselves while there was still time. We have worked hard and usefully, and won friends, a good reputation, and independence. We have seen a great deal of the world, both abroad and at home. In short, we have truly lived instead of merely existing.”

Two of the three greatest epic poets of the world were blind,—Homer and Milton; while the third, Dante, was in his later years nearly, if not altogether, blind. It almost seems as though some great characters had been physically crippled in certain respects so that they would not dissipate their energy, but concentrate it all in one direction.

Two of the world’s three greatest epic poets, Homer and Milton, were blind. The third, Dante, was nearly, if not completely, blind in his later years. It almost seems as though some great people had physical disabilities so they would not scatter their energy, but concentrate it all in one direction.

A distinguished investigator in science said that when he encountered an apparently insuperable obstacle, he usually found himself upon the brink of some discovery.

A respected scientific researcher said that when he faced an obstacle that seemed impossible to overcome, he was usually on the verge of a discovery.

"Returned with thanks" has made many an author. Failure often leads a man to success by arousing his latent energy, by firing a dormant purpose, by awakening powers which were sleeping. Men of mettle turn disappointments into helps as the oyster turns into pearl the sand which annoys it.

"Returned with thanks" has made many an author. Failure often leads a man to success by stirring up hidden energy, rekindling a dormant purpose, and awakening sleeping powers. People with determination turn disappointments into advantages, just as an oyster turns an irritating grain of sand into a pearl.

"Let the adverse breath of criticism be to you only what the blast of the storm wind is to the eagle,—a force against him that lifts him higher."

"Let criticism be like a storm wind to an eagle. Though the wind pushes against the eagle, it lifts him higher."

A kite would not fly unless it had a string tying it down. It is just so in life. The man who is tied down by half a dozen blooming responsibilities and their mother will make a higher and stronger flight than the bachelor who, having nothing to keep him steady, is always floundering in the mud.

A kite cannot fly unless a string ties it down. Life is just the same. A man tied down by half a dozen lively children and their mother will fly higher and stronger than a bachelor. With nothing to keep him steady, the bachelor is always floundering in the mud.

When Napoleon's school companions made sport of him on account of his humble origin and poverty he devoted himself entirely to books, and, quickly rising above them in scholarship, commanded their respect. Soon he was regarded as the brightest ornament of the class.

When Napoleon's schoolmates made fun of his humble origins and poverty, he devoted himself entirely to his books. He soon surpassed them in his studies and earned their respect. Before long, he was seen as the brightest student in the class.

"To make his way at the bar," said an eminent jurist, "a young man must live like a hermit and work like a horse. There is nothing that does a young lawyer so much good as to be half starved."

"To succeed as a lawyer," said a distinguished judge, "a young man must live like a hermit and work like a horse. Nothing does a young lawyer as much good as being half starved."

Thousands of men of great native ability have been lost to the world because they have not had to wrestle with obstacles, and to struggle under difficulties sufficient to stimulate into activity their dormant powers. No effort is too dear which helps us along the line of our proper career.

Thousands of men with great natural ability have been lost to the world because they never faced enough obstacles and difficulties to bring their hidden abilities to life. No effort that helps us pursue the career right for us is too costly.

Poverty and obscurity of origin may impede our progress, but it is only like the obstruction of ice or débris in the river temporarily forcing the water into eddies, where it accumulates strength and a mighty reserve which ultimately sweeps the obstruction impetuously to the sea. Poverty and obscurity are not insurmountable obstacles, but they often act as a stimulus to the naturally indolent, and develop a firmer fiber of mind, a stronger muscle and stamina of body.

Poverty and humble origins may slow our progress. But they are like ice or debris blocking a river, temporarily forcing the water into eddies. There, the water builds up a mighty reserve of strength that eventually sweeps the obstruction forcefully out to sea. Poverty and humble origins are not impossible obstacles to overcome. They often spur naturally lazy people to action, building stronger minds and bodies with more muscle and stamina.

If the germ of the seed has to struggle to push its way up through the stones and hard sod, to fight its way up to sunlight and air, and then to wrestle with storm and tempest, with snow and frost, the fiber of its timber will be all the tougher and stronger.

If a seedling has to push through stones and hard soil to reach sunlight and air, it grows stronger. If it then has to struggle against storms, snow, and frost, the wood it produces will be all the tougher and stronger.

There is good philosophy in the injunction to love our enemies, for they are often our best friends in disguise. They tell us the truth when friends flatter. Their biting sarcasm and scathing rebuke are mirrors which reveal us to ourselves. These unkind stings and thrusts are often spurs which urge us on to grander success and nobler endeavor. Friends cover our faults and rarely rebuke; enemies drag out to the light all our weaknesses without mercy. We dread these thrusts and exposures as we do the surgeon's knife, but are the better for them. They reach depths before untouched, and we are led to resolve to redeem ourselves from scorn and inferiority.

There is wisdom in the command to love our enemies, for they are often our best friends in disguise. They tell us the truth when friends flatter us. Their biting sarcasm and harsh criticism are mirrors that show us who we are. These unkind jabs often spur us on to greater success and nobler efforts. Friends cover up our faults and rarely criticize us. Enemies mercilessly expose all our weaknesses. We dread these attacks and exposures as we dread a surgeon’s knife, but we are better for them. They reach depths no one had touched before. As a result, we resolve to redeem ourselves from scorn and inferiority.

We are the victors of our opponents. They have developed in us the very power by which we overcome them. Without their opposition we could never have braced and anchored and fortified ourselves, as the oak is braced and anchored for its thousand battles with the tempests. Our trials, our sorrows, and our griefs develop us in a similar way.

We triumph over our opponents. They have developed in us the very strength we use to overcome them. Without their opposition, we could never have made ourselves strong and secure. In the same way, an oak grows strong and firmly rooted through its thousand battles with storms. Our trials, sorrows, and griefs help us grow in a similar way.

The man who has triumphed over difficulties bears the signs of victory in his face. An air of triumph is seen in every movement.

A man who has overcome difficulties shows signs of victory on his face. Triumph shows in his every movement.

John Calvin, who made a theology for the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, was tortured with disease for many years, and so was Robert Hall. The great men who have lifted the world to a higher level were not developed in easy circumstances, but were rocked in the cradle of difficulties and pillowed on hardships.

John Calvin created a theology for the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries. He suffered terribly from disease for many years, as did Robert Hall. The great men who lifted the world to a higher level did not grow up in comfort. They were rocked in a cradle of difficulties and rested on a pillow of hardships.

"The gods look on no grander sight than an honest man struggling with adversity."

"The gods see no greater sight than an honest man struggling through hardship."

"Then I must learn to sing better," said Anaximander, when told that the very boys laughed at his singing.

"Then I must learn to sing better," said Anaximander when he was told that even the boys laughed at his singing.

Strong characters, like the palm-tree, seem to thrive best when most abused. Men who have stood up bravely under great misfortune for years are often unable to bear prosperity. Their good fortune takes the spring out of their energy, as the torrid zone enervates races accustomed to a vigorous climate. Some people never come to themselves until baffled, rebuffed, thwarted, defeated, crushed, in the opinion of those around them. Trials unlock their virtues; defeat is the threshold of their victory.

Strong characters, like palm trees, seem to thrive best when treated most harshly. Men who have bravely endured great misfortune for years are often unable to bear prosperity. Good fortune drains their energy, just as the tropical climate weakens races accustomed to a climate that builds strength. Some people only find themselves after being frustrated, rejected, thwarted, and defeated. In the eyes of those around them, they are crushed. Trials bring out their virtues. Defeat is the threshold of their victory.

It is defeat that turns bone to flint; it is defeat that turns gristle to muscle; it is defeat that makes men invincible; it is defeat that has made those heroic natures that are now in the ascendency, and that has given the sweet law of liberty instead of the bitter law of oppression.

Defeat turns bone to flint and gristle to muscle. Defeat makes men invincible. It has shaped the heroic characters who are now rising to power. And it has given us the sweet law of liberty instead of the bitter law of oppression.

Difficulties call out great qualities, and make greatness possible. How many centuries of peace would have developed a Grant? Few knew Lincoln until the great weight of the war showed his character. A century of peace would never have produced a Bismarck. Perhaps Phillips and Garrison would never have been known to history had it not been for slavery.

Difficulties bring out great qualities and make greatness possible. How many centuries of peace would it have taken to develop a Grant? Few people knew Lincoln until the great burden of the war revealed his character. A century of peace would never have produced a Bismarck. Perhaps Phillips and Garrison would never have been known to history without slavery.

"Will he not make a great painter?" was asked in regard to an artist fresh from his Italian tour. "No, never," replied Northcote. "Why not?" "Because he has an income of six thousand pounds a year." In the sunshine of wealth a man is, as a rule, warped too much to become an artist of high merit. He should have some great thwarting difficulty to struggle against. A drenching shower of adversity would straighten his fibers out again.

“Will he become a great painter?” someone asked about an artist who had just returned from a tour of Italy. “No, never,” Northcote replied. “Why not?” “Because he has an income of six thousand pounds a year.” In the sunshine of wealth, a man is usually warped too much to become an artist of great merit. He needs some great obstacle to struggle against. A drenching shower of adversity would straighten his fibers out again.

The best tools receive their temper from fire, their edge from grinding; the noblest characters are developed in a similar way. The harder the diamond, the more brilliant the luster, and the greater the friction necessary to bring it out. Only its own dust is hard enough to make this most precious stone reveal its full beauty.

The best tools gain their strength from fire and their sharp edges from grinding. The finest characters develop in much the same way. The harder the diamond, the brighter its shine, and the more friction it takes to bring out that shine. Only a diamond’s own dust is hard enough to reveal the full beauty of this most precious stone.

The spark in the flint would sleep forever but for friction; the fire in man would never blaze but for antagonism.

The spark in a flint would sleep forever without friction. In the same way, the fire in a person would never blaze without opposition.

Suddenly, with much jarring and jolting, an electric car came to a standstill just in front of a heavy truck that was headed in an opposite direction. The huge truck wheels were sliding uselessly round on the car tracks that were wet and slippery from rain. All the urging of the teamster and the straining of the horses were in vain,—until the motorman quietly tossed a shovelful of sand on the track under the heavy wheels, and then the truck lumbered on its way. "Friction is a very good thing," remarked a passenger.

Suddenly, an electric streetcar came to a stop with a great deal of jarring and jolting. It stopped just in front of a heavy truck heading in the opposite direction. The truck's huge wheels spun uselessly on the streetcar tracks, which were wet and slippery from rain. The driver urged the horses on, and they strained, but nothing worked. Then the streetcar operator quietly tossed a shovelful of sand onto the tracks beneath the heavy wheels. The truck lumbered on its way. "Friction is a very good thing," remarked a passenger.

The philosopher Kant observed that a dove, inasmuch as the only obstacle it has to overcome is the resistance of the air, might suppose that if only the air were out of the way it could fly with greater rapidity and ease. Yet if the air were withdrawn, and the bird should try to fly in a vacuum, it would fall instantly to the ground, unable to fly at all. The very element that offers the opposition to flying is at the same time the condition of any flight whatever.

The philosopher Kant observed that a dove faces only one obstacle in flight: the resistance of the air. The dove might suppose that without air in the way, it could fly faster and more easily. Yet if the air were removed and the bird tried to fly in a vacuum, it would fall instantly to the ground. It would be unable to fly at all. The very element that resists flight is also necessary for any flight at all.

Emergencies make giant men. But for our Civil War the names of its grand heroes would not be written among the greatest of our time.

Emergencies make great men. Without our Civil War, its great heroes would not be remembered among the greatest of our time.

The effort or struggle to climb to a higher place in life has strength and dignity in it, and cannot fail to leave us stronger, even though we may never reach the position we desire, or secure the prize we seek.

The struggle to rise to a higher place in life has strength and dignity. It will always make us stronger, even if we never reach the position we want or win the prize we seek.

From an aimless, idle, and useless brain, emergencies often call out powers and virtues before unknown and unsuspected. How often we see a young man develop astounding ability and energy after the death of a parent, or the loss of a fortune, or after some other calamity has knocked the props and crutches from under him. The prison has roused the slumbering fire in many a noble mind. "Robinson Crusoe" was written in prison. The "Pilgrim's Progress" appeared in Bedford Jail, Sir Walter Raleigh wrote "The History of the World" during his imprisonment of thirteen years. Luther translated the Bible while confined in the Castle of Wartburg. For twenty years Dante worked in exile, and even under sentence of death.

An emergency often brings out unknown and unsuspected powers and virtues in an aimless, idle, and useless mind. How often we see a young man develop astounding ability and energy after a parent dies or a fortune is lost. Some other disaster may also knock away the supports he depended on. Prison has awakened the sleeping fire in many a noble mind. "Robinson Crusoe" was written in prison. "Pilgrim's Progress" appeared in Bedford Jail. Sir Walter Raleigh wrote "The History of the World" during his thirteen years in prison. Luther translated the Bible while confined in the Castle of Wartburg. Dante worked for twenty years in exile, even while under a death sentence.

Take two acorns from the same tree, as nearly alike as possible; plant one on a hill by itself, and the other in the dense forest, and watch them grow. The oak standing alone is exposed to every storm. Its roots reach out in every direction, clutching the rocks and piercing deep into the earth. Every rootlet lends itself to steady the growing giant, as if in anticipation of fierce conflict with the elements. Sometimes its upward growth seems checked for years, but all the while it has been expending its energy in pushing a root across a large rock to gain a firmer anchorage. Then it shoots proudly aloft again, prepared to defy the hurricane. The gales which sport so rudely with its wide branches find more than their match, and only serve still further to toughen every minutest fiber from pith to bark.

Take two acorns from the same tree that are as nearly alike as possible. Plant one alone on a hill and the other in a dense forest, and watch them grow. The oak standing alone is exposed to every storm. Its roots reach out in every direction, gripping rocks and pushing deep into the earth. Every tiny root helps steady the growing giant, as if preparing for a fierce struggle with the elements. Sometimes the oak seems to stop growing upward for years. But all the while, it has been using its energy to push a root across a large rock for a firmer hold. Then it shoots proudly upward again, ready to defy the hurricane. The strong winds that toss its wide branches so roughly are no match for the oak. They only make every tiny fiber tougher, from its core to its bark.

The acorn planted in the deep forest, on the other hand, shoots up a weak, slender sapling. Shielded by its neighbors, it feels no need of spreading its roots far and wide for support.

An acorn planted deep in the forest, on the other hand, grows into a weak, slender sapling. Sheltered by neighboring trees, it has no need to spread its roots far and wide for support.

Take two boys, as nearly alike as possible. Place one in the country away from the hothouse culture and refinements of the city, with only the district school, the Sunday-school, and a few books. Remove wealth and props of every kind; and, if he has the right sort of material in him, he will thrive. Every obstacle overcome lends him strength for the next conflict. If he falls, he rises with more determination than before. Like a rubber ball, the harder the obstacle he meets the higher he rebounds. Obstacles and opposition are but apparatus of the gymnasium in which the fibers of his manhood are developed. He compels respect and recognition from those who have ridiculed his poverty. Put the other boy in a Vanderbilt family. Give him French and German nurses; gratify his every wish. Place him under the tutelage of great masters and send him to Harvard. Give him thousands a year for spending money, and let him travel extensively.

Take two boys who are as much alike as possible. Place one in the country, away from the sheltered upbringing and refinements of the city. Give him only the local school, Sunday school, and a few books. Take away wealth and every other kind of support. If he has the right qualities in him, he will thrive. Every obstacle he overcomes gives him strength for the next struggle. If he falls, he gets up with more determination than before. Like a rubber ball, the harder the obstacle he hits, the higher he bounces. Obstacles and opposition are simply the equipment in the gym where he develops his strength as a man. He wins respect and recognition from those who mocked his poverty. Put the other boy in a Vanderbilt family. Give him French and German nurses, and grant his every wish. Have great teachers educate him, and send him to Harvard. Give him thousands a year in spending money, and let him travel widely.

The two meet. The city lad is ashamed of his country brother. The plain, threadbare clothes, hard hands, tawny face, and awkward manner of the country boy make sorry contrast with the genteel appearance of the other. The poor boy bemoans his hard lot, regrets that he has "no chance in life," and envies the city youth. He thinks that it is a cruel Providence that places such a wide gulf between them.

The two meet. The city boy is ashamed of his country brother. The country boy’s plain, worn clothes, rough hands, tan face, and awkward manner contrast sadly with the city boy’s polished appearance. The poor boy laments his hard life and regrets that he has "no chance in life." He envies the city boy. He thinks Providence is cruel to have created such a wide gap between them.

They meet again as men, but how changed! It is as easy to distinguished the sturdy, self-made man from the one who has been propped up all his life by wealth, position, and family influence, as it is for the shipbuilder to tell the difference between the plank from the rugged mountain oak and one from the sapling of the forest.

They meet again as men, but how changed they are! It is easy to tell the sturdy, self-made man from the one supported all his life by wealth, position, and family influence. It is just as easy for a shipbuilder to tell a plank from a rugged mountain oak from one cut from a forest sapling.

When God wants to educate a man, he does not send him to school to the Graces, but to the Necessities. Through the pit and the dungeon Joseph came to a throne. We are not conscious of the mighty cravings of our half divine humanity; we are not aware of the God within us until some chasm yawns which must be filled, or till the rending asunder of our affections forces us to become conscious of a need. St. Paul in his Roman cell; John Huss led to the stake at Constance; Tyndale dying in his prison at Amsterdam; Milton, amid the incipient earthquake throes of revolution, teaching two little boys in Aldgate Street; David Livingstone, worn to a shadow, dying in a negro hut in Central Africa, alone—what failures they might all have seemed to themselves to be, yet what mighty purposes was God working out by their apparent humiliations!

When God wants to educate a man, he does not send him to study with the Graces, but with the Necessities. Joseph passed through a pit and a dungeon before reaching a throne. We do not realize the powerful longings of our half-divine humanity. We do not recognize the God within us until a great gap opens that must be filled. Or we become aware of a need when our deepest bonds of affection are torn apart. Think of St. Paul in his Roman cell, and John Huss led to the stake at Constance. Think of Tyndale dying in his prison at Amsterdam. Think of Milton teaching two little boys in Aldgate Street as the first tremors of revolution began. Think of David Livingstone, worn to a shadow, dying alone in a negro hut in Central Africa. What failures they all might have seemed to themselves! Yet through their apparent humiliations, God was carrying out mighty purposes.

Two highwaymen chancing once to pass a gibbet, one of them exclaimed: "What a fine profession ours would be if there were no gibbets!" "Tut, you blockhead," replied the other, "gibbets are the making of us; for, if there were no gibbets, every one would be a highwayman." Just so with every art, trade, or pursuit; it is the difficulties that scare and keep out unworthy competitors.

Two highwaymen once passed a gallows. One exclaimed: "What a fine profession ours would be if there were no gallows!" "Nonsense, you fool," replied the other, "the gallows make our profession worthwhile. If there were no gallows, everyone would be a highwayman." The same is true of every art, trade, or pursuit. Difficulties frighten away and keep out unworthy competitors.

"Success grows out of struggles to overcome difficulties," says Smiles. "If there were no difficulties there would be no success. In this necessity for exertion we find the chief source of human advancement,—the advancement of individuals as of nations. It has led to most of the mechanical inventions and improvements of the age."

"Success grows out of the struggle to overcome difficulties," says Smiles. "If there were no difficulties, there would be no success. The need to make an effort is the main source of human progress, for individuals and nations alike. This need has led to most of the mechanical inventions and improvements of the age."

"Stick your claws into me," said Mendelssohn to his critics when entering the Birmingham orchestra. "Don't tell me what you like, but what you don't like."

"Dig your claws into me," Mendelssohn told his critics as he entered the Birmingham orchestra. "Don't tell me what you like, but what you don't like."

John Hunter said that the art of surgery would never advance until professional men had the courage to publish their failures as well as their successes.

John Hunter said that surgery would never advance until professionals had the courage to publish their failures as well as their successes.

"Young men need to be taught not to expect a perfectly smooth and easy way to the objects of their endeavor or ambition," says Dr. Peabody. "Seldom does one reach a position with which he has reason to be satisfied without encountering difficulties and what might seem discouragements. But if they are properly met, they are not what they seem, and may prove to be helps, not hindrances. There is no more helpful and profiting exercise than surmounting obstacles."

"Young men need to learn not to expect a perfectly smooth and easy path to their goals or ambitions," says Dr. Peabody. "A person rarely reaches a position he can be satisfied with without facing difficulties and seeming setbacks. But if he handles these challenges properly, they are not what they seem. They may prove to be helps rather than obstacles. Nothing is more helpful and rewarding than overcoming obstacles."

It was in the Madrid jail that Cervantes wrote "Don Quixote." He was so poor that he could not even get paper during the last of his writing, and had to write on scraps of leather. A rich Spaniard was asked to help him, but replied: "Heaven forbid that his necessities should be relieved; it is his poverty that makes the world rich."

Cervantes wrote "Don Quixote" in the Madrid jail. He was so poor that, near the end, he could not even get paper. He had to write on scraps of leather. A rich Spaniard was asked to help him, but he replied: "Heaven forbid that his needs should be met. His poverty is what makes the world rich."

"He has the stuff in him to make a good musician," said Beethoven of Rossini, "if he had only been well flogged when a boy; but he is spoiled by the ease with which he composes."

"He has what it takes to be a good musician," Beethoven said of Rossini, "if only he had been thoroughly whipped as a boy. But he is spoiled by how easily he composes."

We do our best while fighting desperately to attain what the heart covets.

We do our best when we fight desperately to get what our hearts desire.

Waters says that the struggle to obtain knowledge and to advance one's self in the world strengthens the mind, disciplines the faculties, matures the judgment, promotes self-reliance, and gives one independence of thought and force of character.

Waters says that struggling to gain knowledge and get ahead in life strengthens the mind and trains one's abilities. It also develops sound judgment, encourages self-reliance, and builds independent thought and strength of character.

Kossuth called himself "a tempest-tossed soul, whose eyes have been sharpened by affliction."

Kossuth called himself "a storm-tossed soul whose eyes had been sharpened by suffering."

As soon as young eagles can fly the old birds tumble them out and tear the down and feathers from their nest. The rude and rough experience of the eaglet fits him to become the bold king of birds, fierce and expert in pursuing his prey.

As soon as young eagles can fly, the older birds push them out and tear the down and feathers from their nest. This rough experience prepares each eaglet to become the bold king of birds, fierce and skilled at hunting prey.

Boys who are bound out, crowded out, kicked out, usually "turn out," while those who do not have these disadvantages frequently fail to "come out."

Boys who are bound to work for others, pushed aside, or kicked out usually "turn out" well. But boys without these disadvantages often fail to "come out" successfully.

"It was not the victories but the defeats of my life which have strengthened me," said the aged Sidenham Poyntz.

"It was not the victories in my life that made me stronger, but the defeats," said the elderly Sidenham Poyntz.

Almost from the dawn of history, oppression has been the lot of the Hebrews, yet they have given the world its noblest songs, its wisest proverbs, its sweetest music. With them persecution seems to bring prosperity. They thrive where others would starve. They hold the purse-strings of many nations. To them hardship has been "like spring mornings, frosty but kindly, the cold of which will kill the vermin, but will let the plant live."

Almost from the beginning of history, the Hebrews have suffered oppression. Yet they have given the world its noblest songs, wisest proverbs, and sweetest music. For them, persecution seems to bring prosperity. They thrive where others would starve. They control the finances of many nations. For them, hardship has been "like spring mornings, frosty but kind, cold enough to kill the pests but let the plant live."

In one of the battles of the Crimea a cannon-ball struck inside the fort, crashing through a beautiful garden. But from the ugly chasm there burst forth a spring of water which ever afterward flowed a living fountain. From the ugly gashes which misfortunes and sorrows make in our hearts, perennial fountains of rich experience and new joys often spring.

During one of the battles of the Crimea, a cannonball struck inside the fort, crashing through a beautiful garden. But a spring of water burst from the ugly hole and flowed as a fountain ever after. In the same way, the ugly wounds that misfortune and sorrow leave in our hearts often give rise to lasting sources of rich experience and new joys.

Don't lament and grieve over lost wealth. The Creator may see something grand and mighty which even He can not bring out as long as your wealth stands in the way. You must throw away the crutches of riches and stand upon your own feet, and develop the long unused muscles of manhood. God may see a rough diamond in you which only the hard hits of poverty can polish.

Don't mourn the loss of your wealth. The Creator may see something great and powerful in you. As long as your wealth stands in the way, even he cannot bring it out. You must throw away the crutches of wealth and stand on your own feet. You must develop the long-unused muscles of manhood. God may see a rough diamond in you that only the hard blows of poverty can polish.

God knows where the richest melodies of our lives are, and what drill and what discipline are necessary to bring them out. The frost, the snows, the tempests, the lightnings are the rough teachers that bring the tiny acorn to the sturdy oak. Fierce winters are as necessary to it as long summers. It is its half-century's struggle with the elements for existence, wrestling with the storm, fighting for its life from the moment that it leaves the acorn until it goes into the ship, that gives it value. Without this struggle it would have been characterless, staminaless, nerveless, and its grain would have never been susceptible of high polish. The most beautiful as well as the strongest woods are found not in tropical climates, but in severe climates, where they have to fight the frosts and the winter's cold.

God knows where the richest melodies of our lives lie. He knows what training and discipline are needed to bring them out. Frost, snow, storms, and lightning are the harsh teachers that turn a tiny acorn into a sturdy oak. Fierce winters are as necessary to the oak as long summers. The oak’s value comes from its fifty-year struggle to survive against the elements. It wrestles with storms and fights for its life from the moment it sprouts until its wood becomes part of a ship. Without this struggle, the wood would lack character, strength, and resilience. Its grain would never take a fine polish. The most beautiful and strongest woods are found not in tropical climates, but in harsh climates. There, trees must fight frost and winter cold.

Many a man has never found himself until he has lost his all. Adversity stripped him only to discover him. Obstacles, hardships, are the chisel and mallet which shape the strong life into beauty. The rough ledge on the hillside complains of the drill, of the blasting which disturbs its peace of centuries: it is not pleasant to be rent with powder, to be hammered and squared by the quarryman. But look again: behold the magnificent statue, the monument, chiseled into grace and beauty, telling its grand story of valor in the public square for centuries.

Many a man has found himself only after losing everything. Adversity stripped him bare, only to reveal who he was. Obstacles and hardships are the chisel and mallet that shape a strong life into beauty. The rough rock on the hillside complains of the drill and the blasting that disturb its centuries of peace. It is not pleasant to be torn apart by explosives, then hammered and squared by the quarryman. But look again. See the magnificent statue, the monument carved into grace and beauty. In the public square, it tells its grand story of valor for centuries.

The statue would have slept in the marble forever but for the blasting, the chiseling, and the polishing. The angel of our higher and nobler selves would remain forever unknown in the rough quarries of our lives but for the blastings of affliction, the chiseling of obstacles, and the sand-papering of a thousand annoyances.

The statue would have slept in the marble forever without blasting, chiseling, and polishing. In the same way, the angel of our higher, nobler selves would remain forever hidden in the rough quarries of our lives. It takes the blasting of hardship, the chiseling of obstacles, and the sanding of a thousand annoyances to reveal it.

Who has not observed the patience, the calm endurance, the sweet loveliness chiseled out of some rough life by the reversal of fortune or by some terrible affliction?

Who has not seen patience, calm endurance, and sweet loveliness carved out of a rough life by misfortune or terrible suffering?

How many business men have made their greatest strides toward manhood, and developed their greatest virtues when reverses of fortune have swept away everything they had in the world; when disease had robbed them of all they held dear in life! Often we can not see the angel in the quarry of our lives, the statue of manhood, until the blasts of misfortune have rent the ledge, and difficulties and obstacles have squared and chiseled the granite blocks into grace and beauty.

How many businesspeople have made their greatest strides toward becoming better people and developed their greatest virtues through hardship! Some lost everything they owned to financial setbacks. Others saw disease rob them of all they held dear in life. Often we cannot see the angel in the quarry of our lives, the statue of our better selves, at first. We see it only after the blasts of misfortune have split the rock. Then difficulties and obstacles shape and chisel the granite blocks into grace and beauty.

Many a man has been ruined into salvation. The lightning which smote his dearest hopes opened up a new rift in his dark life, and gave him glimpses of himself which, until then, he had never seen. The grave buried his dearest hopes, but uncovered in his nature possibilities of patience, endurance, and hope which he never before dreamed he possessed.

Many a man has found salvation through ruin. The lightning that struck his dearest hopes opened a new crack in his dark life. It gave him glimpses of himself that he had never seen before. The grave buried his dearest hopes, but it also revealed possibilities within him. He had never dreamed he possessed such patience, endurance, and hope.

"Adversity is a severe instructor," says Edmund Burke, "set over us by one who knows us better than we do ourselves, as he loves us better too. He that wrestles with us strengthens our nerves and sharpens our skill. Our antagonist is our helper. This conflict with difficulty makes us acquainted with our object, and compels us to consider it in all its relations. It will not suffer us to be superficial."

"Adversity is a tough teacher," says Edmund Burke, "appointed to guide us by someone who knows us better than we know ourselves. He also loves us more than we love ourselves. Whoever struggles against us strengthens our nerves and sharpens our skills. Our opponent helps us. Struggling with difficulty helps us understand our goal and forces us to consider it from every angle. Difficulty will not let us be superficial."

Men who have the right kind of material in them will assert their personality and rise in spite of a thousand adverse circumstances. You can not keep them down. Every obstacle seems only to add to their ability to get on.

Men with the right qualities will show their character and rise despite a thousand obstacles. You cannot keep them down. Every obstacle seems only to make them better able to move forward.

The greatest men will ever be those who have risen from the ranks. It is said that there are ten thousand chances to one that genius, talent, and virtue shall issue from a farmhouse rather than from a palace.

The greatest people will always be those who have risen from ordinary backgrounds. It is said that genius, talent, and virtue are ten thousand times more likely to come from a farmhouse than a palace.

Adversity exasperates fools, dejects cowards, but draws out the faculties of the wise and industrious, puts the modest to the necessity of trying their skill, awes the opulent, and makes the idle industrious. The storms of adversity, like those of the ocean, rouse the faculties, and excite the invention, prudence, skill, and fortitude of the voyager. A man upon whom continuous sunshine falls is like the earth in August: he becomes parched and dry and hard and close-grained. Men have drawn from adversity the elements of greatness.

Adversity frustrates fools and discourages cowards. But it brings out the abilities of the wise and hardworking. It forces modest people to test their skills, humbles the wealthy, and makes idle people work hard. Like ocean storms, the storms of adversity awaken a voyager’s abilities. They inspire ingenuity, caution, skill, and courage. A man who lives in constant sunshine is like the earth in August. He becomes parched, dry, hard, and tightly packed. Men have found the elements of greatness in adversity.

Beethoven was almost totally deaf and burdened with sorrow when he produced his greatest works. Schiller wrote his best books in great bodily suffering. He was not free from pain for fifteen years. Milton wrote his leading productions when blind, poor, and sick. "Who best can suffer," said he, "best can do." Bunyan said that, if it were lawful, he could even pray for greater trouble, for the greater comfort's sake.

Beethoven was almost completely deaf and weighed down by sorrow when he produced his greatest works. Schiller wrote his best books while suffering great physical pain. He was never free from pain for fifteen years. Milton wrote his major works when he was blind, poor, and sick. "Whoever can suffer best," he said, "can do the most." Bunyan said that, if it were lawful, he could even pray for greater trouble to receive greater comfort.

Not until the breath of the plague had blasted a hundred thousand lives, and the great fire had licked up cheap, shabby, wicked London, did she arise, phoenix-like, from her ashes and ruin, a grand and mighty city.

The plague claimed a hundred thousand lives, and the great fire devoured cheap, shabby, wicked London. Only then did London rise like a phoenix from its ashes and ruins, a grand and mighty city.

True salamanders live best in the furnace of persecution.

True salamanders thrive in the furnace of persecution.

Many of our best poets

Many of our best poets

Byron was stung into a determination to go to the top by a scathing criticism of his first book, "Hours of Idleness," published when he was but nineteen years of age. Macaulay said, "There is scarce an instance in history of so sudden a rise to so dizzy an eminence as Byron reached." In a few years he stood by the side of such men as Scott, Southey, and Campbell, and died at thirty-seven, that age so fatal to genius. Many an orator like "stuttering Jack Curran," or "Orator Mum," as he was once called, has been spurred into eloquence by ridicule and abuse.

A scathing review of Byron's first book, "Hours of Idleness," spurred him to reach the top. The book was published when he was only nineteen. Macaulay said, "There is scarcely an example in history of anyone rising so suddenly to such dizzying heights as Byron did." Within a few years, Byron stood alongside men like Scott, Southey, and Campbell. He died at thirty-seven, an age so fatal to genius. Many an orator, like "stuttering Jack Curran," once known as "Orator Mum," has been driven to eloquence by ridicule and abuse.

This is the crutch age. "Helps" and "aids" are advertised everywhere. We have institutes, colleges, universities, teachers, books, libraries, newspapers, magazines. Our thinking is done for us. Our problems are all worked out in "explanations" and "keys." Our boys are too often tutored through college with very little study. "Short roads" and "abridged methods" are characteristic of the century. Ingenious methods are used everywhere to get the drudgery out of the college course. Newspapers give us our politics, and preachers our religion. Self-help and self-reliance are getting old-fashioned. Nature, as if conscious of delayed blessings, has rushed to man's relief with her wondrous forces, and undertakes to do the world's drudgery and emancipate him from Eden's curse.

This is the age of crutches. "Helps" and "aids" are advertised everywhere. We have institutes, colleges, universities, teachers, books, libraries, newspapers, and magazines. Our thinking is done for us. All our problems are worked out in "explanations" and "keys." Our boys are too often tutored through college with very little study. "Short roads" and "abridged methods" are typical of the century. Clever methods are used everywhere to take the hard work out of college courses. Newspapers give us our politics, and preachers give us our religion. Self-help and self-reliance are becoming old-fashioned. Nature seems aware that her blessings have been delayed. She has rushed to man's aid with her wondrous forces. She takes on the world's hard work and seeks to free him from Eden's curse.

But do not misinterpret her edict. She emancipates from the lower only to call to the higher. She does not bid the world go and play while she does the work. She emancipates the muscles only to employ the brain and heart.

But do not misunderstand her command. She frees us from lower work only to call us to higher work. She does not tell the world to go and play while she does the work. She frees the muscles only to put the brain and heart to work.

The most beautiful as well as the strongest characters are not developed in warm climates, where man finds his bread ready made on trees, and where exertion is a great effort, but rather in a trying climate and on a stubborn soil. It is not chance that returns to the Hindoo ryot a penny and to the American laborer a dollar for his daily toil; that makes Mexico with its mineral wealth poor, and New England with its granite and ice rich. It is rugged necessity, it is the struggle to obtain; it is poverty, the priceless spur, that develops the stamina of manhood, and calls the race out of barbarism. Intelligent labor found the world a wilderness and has made it a garden.

The most beautiful and strongest characters do not develop in warm climates, where people find bread ready-made on trees and even exertion takes great effort. They develop instead in harsh climates and on stubborn soil. It is not chance that gives the Hindoo ryot a penny and the American laborer a dollar for a day's work. Nor is it chance that leaves Mexico poor despite its mineral wealth and makes New England rich despite its granite and ice. It is harsh necessity and the struggle to obtain what one needs. It is poverty, that priceless spur, that develops the strength of manhood and calls the human race out of barbarism. Intelligent labor found the world a wilderness and has made it a garden.

As the sculptor thinks only of the angel imprisoned in the marble block, so Nature cares only for the man or woman shut up in the human being. The sculptor cares nothing for the block as such; Nature has little regard for the mere lump of breathing clay. The sculptor will chip off all unnecessary material to set free the angel. Nature will chip and pound us remorselessly to bring out our possibilities. She will strip us of wealth, humble our pride, humiliate our ambition, let us down from the ladder of fame, will discipline us in a thousand ways, if she can develop a little character. Everything must give way to that.

Just as a sculptor sees only the angel trapped in a block of marble, Nature sees only the man or woman trapped within a human being. The sculptor cares nothing for the block itself. Likewise, Nature cares little for a mere lump of breathing clay. The sculptor chips away all unnecessary material to set the angel free. Nature chips and pounds us relentlessly to bring out our potential. She will take away our wealth, humble our pride, and humiliate our ambition. She will bring us down from the heights of fame and discipline us in a thousand ways, if she can develop even a little character. Everything must give way to that purpose.