Raising Values

"The world is no longer clay, but rather iron in the hands of its workers," says Emerson, "and men have got to hammer out a place for themselves by steady and rugged blows."

"The world is no longer clay in the hands of its workers, but iron," says Emerson. "Men must hammer out a place for themselves with steady, forceful blows."

To make the most of your "stuff," be it cloth, iron, or character,—this is success. Raising common "stuff" to priceless value is great success.

Success is making the most of your "stuff," whether it is cloth, iron, or character. Great success is turning common "stuff" into something priceless.

The man who first takes the rough bar of wrought iron may be a blacksmith, who has only partly learned his trade, and has no ambition to rise above his anvil. He thinks that the best possible thing he can do with his bar is to make it into horseshoes, and congratulates himself upon his success. He reasons that the rough lump of iron is worth only two or three cents a pound, and that it is not worth while to spend much time or labor on it. His enormous muscles and small skill have raised the value of the iron from one dollar, perhaps, to ten dollars.

The first man to take the rough bar of wrought iron may be a blacksmith. He has only partly learned his trade and has no ambition to rise above his anvil. He thinks the best thing he can do with the bar is make horseshoes. He congratulates himself on his success. He reasons that the rough lump of iron is worth only two or three cents a pound. So he thinks it is not worth spending much time or labor on it. His enormous muscles and limited skill have raised the iron’s value from perhaps one dollar to ten dollars.

Along comes a cutler, with a little better education, a little more ambition, a little finer perception, and says to the blacksmith: "Is this all you can see in that iron? Give me a bar, and I will show you what brains and skill and hard work can make of it." He sees a little further into the rough bar. He has studied many processes of hardening and tempering; he has tools, grinding and polishing wheels, and annealing furnaces. The iron is fused, carbonized into steel, drawn out, forged, tempered, heated white-hot, plunged into cold water or oil to improve its temper, and ground and polished with great care and patience. When this work is done, he shows the astonished blacksmith two thousand dollars' worth of knife-blades where the latter only saw ten dollars' worth of crude horseshoes. The value has been greatly raised by the refining process.

Along comes a knife maker with a little more education, a little more ambition, and a little sharper insight. He says to the blacksmith: "Is this all you can see in that iron? Give me a bar, and I will show you what intelligence, skill, and hard work can make of it." He sees a little more potential in the rough bar. He has studied many ways of hardening and tempering metal. He has tools, grinding and polishing wheels, and furnaces for heat-treating metal. The iron is melted and combined with carbon to make steel. The steel is stretched out, forged, tempered, and heated until white-hot. Then it is plunged into cold water or oil to improve its temper. Finally, it is ground and polished with great care and patience. When the work is done, he shows the astonished blacksmith two thousand dollars' worth of knife blades. The blacksmith had seen only ten dollars' worth of crude horseshoes in the iron. The refining process has greatly increased its value.

"Knife-blades are all very well, if you can make nothing better," says another artisan, to whom the cutler has shown the triumph of his art, "but you haven't half brought out what is in that bar of iron. I see a higher and better use; I have made a study of iron, and know what there is in it and what can be made of it."

"Knife blades are fine if you can't make anything better," says another craftsman, after the knife maker shows him his finest work. "But you haven't brought out half of what is in that bar of iron. I see a higher and better use for it. I have studied iron, and I know what is in it and what can be made from it."

This artisan has a more delicate touch, a finer perception, a better training, a higher ideal, and superior determination, which enable him to look still further into the molecules of the rough bar,—past the horse-shoes, past the knife-blades,—and he turns the crude iron into the finest cambric needles, with eyes cut with microscopic exactness. The production of the invisible points requires a more delicate process, a finer grade of skill than the cutler possesses.

This artisan has a more delicate touch, sharper perception, better training, higher ideals, and greater determination. These qualities allow him to look even further into the molecules of the rough iron bar, beyond horseshoes and knife blades. He turns the crude iron into the finest cambric needles, with eyes cut with microscopic precision. Making their nearly invisible points requires a more delicate process and finer skill than the knife maker possesses.

This feat the last workman considers marvelous, and he thinks he has exhausted the possibilities of the iron. He has multiplied many times the value of the cutler's product.

The last worker thinks this feat is remarkable and believes he has done all that can be done with the iron. He has increased the value of the cutler's product many times over.

But, behold! another very skilful mechanic, with a more finely organized mind, a more delicate touch, more patience, more industry, a higher order of skill, and a better training, passes with ease by the horse-shoes, the knife-blades, and the needles, and returns the product of his bar in fine mainsprings for watches. Where the others saw horseshoes, knife-blades, or needles, worth only a few thousand dollars, his penetrating eye saw a product worth one hundred thousand dollars.

But look! Another very skilled craftsman has a more refined mind, a more delicate touch, and more patience and diligence. He also has greater skill and better training. He easily passes over horseshoes, knife blades, and needles, and makes his bar into fine watch mainsprings. The others saw horseshoes, knife blades, or needles worth only a few thousand dollars. His sharp eye saw a product worth one hundred thousand dollars.

A higher artist-artisan appears, who tells us that the rough bar has not even yet found its highest expression; that he possesses the magic that can perform a still greater miracle in iron. To him, even main-springs seem coarse and clumsy. He knows that the crude iron can be manipulated and coaxed into an elasticity that can not even be imagined by one less trained in metallurgy. He knows that, if care enough be used in tempering the steel, it will not be stiff, trenchant, and merely a passive metal, but so full of its new qualities that it almost seems instinct with life.

A more skilled artist and craftsman appears. He tells us that the rough bar has not yet reached its highest form. He possesses the magic to work an even greater miracle with iron. To him, even mainsprings seem coarse and clumsy. He knows that the crude iron can be worked and coaxed into a flexibility beyond the imagination of someone less trained in metallurgy. He knows that, if the steel is tempered with enough care, it will not be stiff, sharp, and merely passive. Instead, it will be so full of new qualities that it will almost seem alive.

With penetrating, almost clairvoyant vision, this artist-artisan sees how every process of mainspring making can be carried further; and how, at every stage of manufacture, more perfection can be reached; how the texture of the metal can be so much refined that even a fiber, a slender thread of it, can do marvelous work. He puts his bar through many processes of refinement and fine tempering, and, in triumph, turns his product into almost invisible coils of delicate hair-springs. After infinite toil and pain, he has made his dream true; he has raised the few dollars' worth of iron to a value of one million dollars, perhaps forty times the value of the same weight of gold.

With sharp, almost clairvoyant vision, this artist and craftsman sees how every step in making a mainspring can be improved. He sees how greater perfection can be reached at every stage of production. He sees how the metal can be refined so much that even a slender thread of it can do marvelous work. He puts his bar of metal through many stages of refining and careful tempering. Then, in triumph, he turns it into almost invisible coils of delicate hairsprings. After endless toil and pain, he has made his dream come true. He has raised the value of a few dollars’ worth of iron to one million dollars, perhaps forty times the value of the same weight in gold.

Still another workman, whose processes are so almost infinitely delicate, whose product is so little known, by even the average educated man, that his trade is unmentioned by the makers of dictionaries and encylopedias, takes but a fragment of one of the bars of steel, and develops its higher possibilities with such marvelous accuracy, such ethereal fineness of touch, that even mainsprings and hairsprings are looked back upon as coarse, crude, and cheap. When his work is done, he shows you a few of the minutely barbed instruments used by dentists to draw out the finest branches of the dental nerves. While a pound of gold, roughly speaking, is worth about two hundred and fifty dollars, a pound of these slender, barbed filaments of steel, if a pound could be collected, might be worth hundreds of times as much.

Still another workman uses processes of almost infinite delicacy. Even the average educated person knows so little about his product that dictionaries and encyclopedias do not mention his trade. He takes just a fragment of one steel bar and develops its greater possibilities with astonishing accuracy and an exquisitely delicate touch. His work makes even mainsprings and hairsprings seem coarse, crude, and cheap by comparison. When he finishes, he shows you a few tiny barbed instruments. Dentists use them to draw out the finest branches of dental nerves. A pound of gold is worth roughly two hundred and fifty dollars. But a pound of these slender, barbed steel filaments, if a pound could be collected, might be worth hundreds of times as much.

Other experts may still further refine the product, but it will be many a day before the best will exhaust the possibilities of a metal that can be subdivided until its particles will float in the air.

Other experts may refine the product further. But even the best will take a long time to exhaust the possibilities of this metal. It can be divided into particles small enough to float in the air.

It sounds magical, but the magic is only that wrought by the application of the homeliest virtues; by the training of the eye, the hand, the perception; by painstaking care, by hard work, and by determination and grit.

It sounds magical, but the magic comes from the simplest virtues. It comes from training the eye, the hand, and perception. It comes from careful attention, hard work, determination, and grit.

If a metal possessing only a few coarse material qualities is capable of such marvelous increase in value, by mixing brains with its molecules, who shall set bounds to the possibilities of the development of a human being, that wonderful compound of physical, mental, moral, and spiritual forces? Whereas, in the development of iron, a dozen processes are possible, a thousand influences may be brought to bear upon mind and character. While the iron is an inert mass acted upon by external influences only, the human being is a bundle of forces, acting and counteracting, yet all capable of control and direction by the higher self, the real, dominating personality.

If a metal with only a few basic material qualities can become so much more valuable when human intelligence is applied to its molecules, who can set limits on human development? A human being is a wonderful combination of physical, mental, moral, and spiritual forces. Iron can be developed through a dozen processes, but a thousand influences can shape the mind and character. Iron is an inert mass, acted upon only by outside forces. A human being, however, is a bundle of forces that act and counteract. All of them can be controlled and directed by the higher self, the real, governing personality.

The difference in human attainment is due only slightly to the original material. It is the ideal followed and unfolded, the effort made, the processes of education and experience undergone that fuse, hammer, and mold our life-bar into its ultimate development.

Differences in what people achieve are only slightly due to the abilities they start with. What matters is the ideal they pursue and develop, the effort they make, and their education and experience. These forge and shape the bar of our lives into its final form.

Life, everyday life, has counterparts of all the tortures the iron undergoes, and through them it comes to its highest expression. The blows of opposition, the struggles amid want and woe, the fiery trials of disaster and bereavement, the crushings of iron circumstances, the raspings of care and anxiety, the grinding of constant difficulties, the rebuffs that chill enthusiasm, the weariness of years of dry, dreary drudgery in education and discipline,—all these are necessary to the man who would reach the highest success.

Everyday life has its own versions of all the tortures iron undergoes. Through them, life reaches its highest expression. There are blows of opposition, struggles with poverty and sorrow, and fiery trials of disaster and loss. There is the crushing weight of harsh circumstances, the constant strain of worry, and the grinding pressure of ongoing difficulties. There are setbacks that chill enthusiasm and exhausting years of dull, dreary work in education and training. All these are necessary for a man who wants to reach the highest success.

The iron, by this manipulation, is strengthened, refined, made more elastic or more resistant, and adapted to the use each artisan dreams of. If every blow should fracture it, if every furnace should burn the life out of it, if every roller should pulverize it, of what use would it be? It has that virtue, those qualities that withstand all; that draw profit from every test, and come out triumphant in the end. In the iron the qualities are, in the main, inherent; but in ourselves they are largely matters of growth, culture, and development, and all are subject to the dominating will.

This process strengthens and refines the iron, making it more flexible or resistant. It adapts the iron to whatever use each craftsperson imagines. What use would it be if every blow cracked it, every furnace burned the life out of it, or every roller crushed it to powder? Iron has qualities that allow it to withstand everything, benefit from every test, and emerge triumphant in the end. In iron, these qualities are mostly inherent. But in us, they come largely from growth, training, and development, and all are subject to the controlling power of the will.

Just as each artisan sees in the crude iron some finished, refined product, so must we see in our lives glorious possibilities, if we would but realize them. If we see only horseshoes or knife-blades, all our efforts and struggles will never produce hairsprings. We must realize our own adaptability to great ends; we must resolve to struggle, to endure trials and tests, to pay the necessary price, confident that the result will pay us for our suffering, our trials, and our efforts.

Just as each craftsperson sees a finished, refined product in raw iron, we must see glorious possibilities in our lives. Only then can we make those possibilities real. If we see only horseshoes or knife blades, all our efforts and struggles will never produce hairsprings. We must recognize our own ability to achieve great things. We must resolve to struggle, endure trials and tests, and pay the necessary price. We must be confident that the result will repay us for our suffering, trials, and efforts.

Those who shrink from the forging, the rolling, and the drawing out, are the ones who fail, the "nobodies," the faulty characters, the criminals. Just as a bar of iron, if exposed to the elements, will oxidize, and become worthless, so will character deteriorate if there is no constant effort to improve its form, to increase its ductility, to temper it, or to better it in some way.

Those who shy away from being forged, rolled, and drawn out are the ones who fail. They are the "nobodies," the people with flawed characters, the criminals. A bar of iron exposed to the elements will rust and become worthless. In the same way, character will deteriorate without constant effort to shape it, make it more flexible, temper it, or improve it in some other way.

It is easy to remain a common bar of iron, or comparatively so, by becoming merely a horseshoe; but it is hard to raise your life-product to higher values.

It is easy to remain an ordinary bar of iron, or relatively easy to become a horseshoe. But it is hard to make your life's work more valuable.

Many of us consider our natural gift-bars poor, mean, and inadequate, compared with those of others; but, if we are willing, by patience, toil, study, and struggle, to hammer, draw out, and refine, to work on and up from clumsy horseshoes to delicate hairsprings, we can, by infinite patience and persistence, raise the value of the raw material to almost fabulous heights. It was thus that Columbus, the weaver, Franklin, the journeyman printer, Aesop, the slave, Homer, the beggar, Demosthenes, the cutler's son, Ben Jonson, the bricklayer, Cervantes, the common soldier, and Haydn, the poor wheelwright's son, developed their powers, until they towered head and shoulders above other men.

Many of us think our natural gifts are poor, paltry, and inadequate compared with those of others. But we can raise the value of this raw material to almost unimaginable heights. To do so, we must be willing to hammer, shape, and refine it through patience, hard work, study, and struggle. We must work our way up from clumsy horseshoes to delicate hairsprings, with endless patience and persistence. That is how Columbus, the weaver, and Franklin, the journeyman printer, developed their powers. So did Aesop, the slave, Homer, the beggar, and Demosthenes, the cutler's son. Ben Jonson, the bricklayer, Cervantes, the common soldier, and Haydn, the poor wheelwright's son, did the same. They developed their powers until they stood head and shoulders above other men.

There is very little difference between the material given to a hundred average boys and girls at birth, yet one with no better means of improvement than the others, perhaps with infinitely poorer means, will raise his material in value a hundredfold, five-hundredfold, aye, a thousandfold, while the ninety-nine will wonder why their material remains so coarse and crude, and will attribute their failure to hard luck.

At birth, there is very little difference in the material given to a hundred average boys and girls. Yet one may have no better opportunities to improve than the others, perhaps infinitely poorer ones. That person will increase the value of the material a hundredfold, five hundredfold, even a thousandfold. Meanwhile, the other ninety-nine will wonder why their material remains so rough and crude. They will blame their failure on bad luck.

While one boy is regretting his want of opportunities, his lack of means to get a college education, and remains in ignorance, another with half his chances picks up a good education in the odds and ends of time which other boys throw away. From the same material, one man builds a palace and another a hovel. From the same rough piece of marble, one man calls out an angel of beauty which delights every beholder, another a hideous monster which demoralizes every one who sees it.

One boy complains that he lacks opportunities and cannot afford a college education, and he remains ignorant. Another boy, with half as many chances, gets a good education in the spare moments other boys waste. From the same materials, one man builds a palace and another a shack. From the same rough piece of marble, one man creates a beautiful angel that delights everyone who sees it. Another creates a hideous monster that corrupts everyone who sees it.

The extent to which you can raise the value of your life-bar depends very largely upon yourself. Whether you go upward to the mainspring or hairspring stage, depends very largely upon your ideal, your determination to be the higher thing, upon your having the grit to be hammered, to be drawn out, to be thrust from the fire into cold water or oil in order to get the proper temper.

How much you raise the value of your life-bar depends largely on you. Whether you rise to the mainspring or hairspring stage depends largely on your ideal and your determination to become something higher. It also depends on your grit to be hammered and drawn out, and plunged from the fire into cold water or oil to gain the proper temper.

Of course, it is hard and painful, and it takes lots of stamina to undergo the processes that produce the finest product, but would you prefer to remain a rough bar of iron or a horseshoe all your life?

Of course, going through the processes that produce the finest product is hard and painful. It takes lots of stamina. But would you prefer to remain a rough bar of iron or a horseshoe all your life?