iJ<KG 
 
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 JM^?^TJ^/TFP- 
 
 WILLIAM D. OWEN. 
 
 
 (J,«-^«o,,@^??>S'^^3--5~-5 
 
 -?'*0/ 
 
 CHICAGO, ILL.: 
 
 NORTHERN PUBLISHING H O U vS E , 
 
 1SS3. 
 
F^ir-r/ 
 
 Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1883, by 
 
 LEWIS A. GASAWAY, 
 
 In the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington, D. C. 
 
 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. 
 
)^ 
 
 The subjects upon which this book treats lie very close to the human 
 heart. Every one, without reference to the life calling, is possessed of 
 a like hope and desire ; all want to succeed in the world, and all feel 
 that the experience of others may be of benefit to them. But, it seems 
 almost impossible to add anything materially to a subject upon which 
 the largest minds of ancient and modern days have lavished their 
 maturest thought. Yet, the very surfeit of these writings has seemed 
 to make the present work a necessity. For as those that are in search 
 of good advice can not read all that is offered them, and are liable to 
 bewilderment among a multitude of counselors, it has appeared to the 
 author that he was doing wisely and well in recasting and compiling 
 the thoughts that have gone before, and drawing upon the experience 
 and example of later years for what might appear best adapted to the 
 needs of the passing day. 
 
 The biographies are given to commend and illustrate the views 
 enunciated — they contain the very marrow of the lives of these illus- 
 trous men — who-are, indeed, fit examples for our American youth, for 
 they possessed the genius of industry, and in them we see how work 
 wins and manhood grows. 
 
 This book is sent forth in fervent hope that it may give courage to 
 some faltering hearts, direct some seeking the right way, and inspire 
 ambition in not a few to be equals of the men whose lives are herein 
 set forth as examples. We have not directed you along some lonely 
 impossible road, but show you a way where patient industry and care- 
 ful thought will bring you to one of life's prizes, and will set it with 
 the jewels of happiness and contentment. 
 
THE MEMORY OF 
 
 Br. 3. 3- Baujlmgs, 
 
 THE PATRON OF MY CHILDHOOD, THE COUNSELOR 
 
 OF MY YOUTH, AND THE FRIEND 
 
 OF MY MANHOOD, I 
 
 DEDICATE THIS 
 
 BOOK. 
 
 TO HIM I OWE MUCH 
 
 FOR WHATEVER OF SUCCESS 
 
 I HAVE ATTAINED IN THIS LIFE 
 
 THE Al'THOR. 
 
yAll men not created tor the same calling — Every man has a fighting cliance in 
 life — Greatness not necessary' to success — Elements that are necessary — 
 ^'ictory through toil — A bad beginning often has a good ending^Genius 
 versus life-long %vorkers-*^Slow boys — Ciesar, Shakspeare, Webster — Success 
 after failure — Disraeli, Lord Eldon — Fortunes accumulated after fifty years of 
 age — Peabody, Vanderbilt — Day laborers who waited on success and saw it 
 grow — Cook, Yelford, Hugh Miller, Elihu Burritt — Men fail because they 
 won't work and wait — Sit still and die — Too much haste — Mushrooms grow- 
 up in a night-^very man can excel in his vocation — Plenty of room up stairs 
 — thoroughness needed — Industry is genius — Work wins. 
 
 P'^Ljx^icaf (suffure. 
 
 The WTCstler and the philosopher — Giants once regarded as divine beings — Build- 
 ing up the mind — Neglecting the health — Education a mania — Outdoor sports 
 — Muscle of the American women — Razor-faced people — Shattered nerves — 
 Being a good animal — Study and dyspepsia — The stomach decides whether 
 you can be happy or not — Self-repair — Good playing constitutions — Good 
 workinsr constitutions. 
 
 Elcoqom\/ o^ ©Jime. 
 
 The man habituallv behind time never gets along well — Military men noted for 
 being on time — You can save little pieces of time and make days out of them, 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 as you save dimes and make dollars — How to become a good historian of the 
 United States by reading during your idle moments — Working by rule — Value 
 of it — What the spare minutes in a year will do — Life is measured by what is 
 done in it. 
 
 Is anything of value due to luck? — Failures charged to bad luck — Belief in luck — 
 Power of circumstances to mould us — They are made to be but stepping stones 
 to men of metal — No great work ever accomplished solely by fortune — Wrong 
 to despise trifles — Bad luck can't stand against pluck and wit^It's a long lane 
 that has no turn — It is luck to have good sense — Bad luck to neglect duty, to 
 be extravagant or intemperate — Pluck sticks to business, fights misfortunes, 
 and gets rich. 
 
 (^^oox^ing a ^^ocatior2. 
 
 Be what nature intended you for — Life has no easy places — Too many make a mis- 
 take in choosing their life employment — Impossible to do more than one thing 
 well — Great abilities not necessary — What do you naturally incline to.' — Better 
 be a success as a fish peddler than a failure as a merchant — A diploma never 
 made a man — It pays to take time enough to get the right start — Honor your 
 business; let it have a man behind it. 
 
 <Sj\ 
 
 im. 
 
 Having a worthy aim — Each man capable of great things in some part of his 
 sphere — Palissy had an aim inside of his sphere, and how he pursued it — Even 
 great talents must be directed to a single object — The aim must be felt to be 
 a something that needs to be done — Why the sons of the ricli are usually 
 failures — Duty well done is true greatness — Youth often injured by early 
 success — Put the aim high — Hindrances are God's helps. 
 
 ©>//ifP-poa:)er. 
 
 The will is the sovereign of the man — Will-power indispensable to success — A 
 determined will more valuable than gifts of genius — It finds a way or makes 
 
VON TENTS 7 
 
 it Wishing is not willing — Failure sometimes helps the will — Intoxicants 
 
 destroy will-power — Great call for strong wills in our competitions — Inhuman 
 treatment gave Frederick the Great his vast will-power — Places where man- 
 hood is developed. 
 
 Uurnlng poiafx^. 
 
 Watching the turn of things — What five minutes may contain — Confidence is lost 
 in chance work — Chance only a place where previous training may act— Great 
 results from trifles — Must know your chance — Rising in the world — Keep 
 your wits at your fingers' ends— Training by adversity— Must strike while the 
 iron is hot — The lack of tact — Close observer — Needs a long head and always 
 to be on the alert — Two ways of blowing your own trumpet — Being master of 
 the situation— Sharp practice will in the end bring ruin — Never underrate 
 your abilities— Merit must not expect to succeed without industry- — Reverence 
 yourself —World is calling for men— Value of disciplined talent — Be on hand 
 when a crisis takes place — Full-orbed men — Act at the salient moment. 
 
 ©ngli^afltij. 
 
 The genius of originality — You are expected to do the unexpected — Individuality 
 — Be ready to assume responsibility — Doing things your own way — The age 
 of the specialist — Certain indispensables — Chances to do something — The will 
 and the way — The unfortunate brilliants — Having common sense — Micaw- 
 bers — All men not equals — American boys — You will never know yourself 
 until you are put on trial. 
 
 oKBraftam Tsincofn. 
 
 His humble Kentucky home— Removal to Indiana— His mother's gentle nature — 
 Her death — Burial — Gathering strength for his life-fight— His moral integrity 
 — John Hampden — Phenominal men — Adverse fate — The Bible, >^sop's Fables 
 and Pilgrim's Progress, his wealth — Self-education — Accepting nature's invi- 
 tations — A new market — Six feet four inches — Lincoln's trousers and Mrs. 
 Miller's rails — Floating to New Orleans — A clerk at New Salem — " Honest 
 Abe" — Captain Lincoln — His "national debt — A post-master, his hat the 
 office — A life of expedients — To the legislature — Meeting of- Lincoln and 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 Douglas — First anti-slavery vote — Garibaldi — Henry — Garrison — Giddings — 
 Law practice — Eloquence — Coukl work only on the side of right — The trust 
 of juries- — "Uncle Sam's" "balance" — Marriage — Clay his political idol — 
 Lincoln at Ashland — Congress — Illinois the battle ground of slavery — Lincoln 
 and Douglas champions — A prophetic speech— In Cooper Institute — Captures 
 the metropolis — Nominated and elected president — Conspiracies — Inaugurated 
 — Plodding the moral pathway through the war — Re-election the seal of a 
 people's approval — Fall of Richmond — Assassination. 
 
 The core of our character — Inglorious Miltons — Assert yourself — Men who forced 
 the world to hear them — Bad influence of debt — Above corruption, wealth or 
 glory, be right — How to get out all there is in yourself — Never doubt yourself 
 — Majority of men rise without wealth or education — Good native ability 
 pushed, is of more value than gilt-edged qualities that are not asserted. 
 
 <Kerir>/ (^Pqlj. 
 
 A mother's influence better than lordly lineage — Two characters often displayed 
 by children — Clay an ordinary child — Becomes a clerk — The town boys laugh 
 
 at him Counsel from seli-made men. — He refuses to do wrong — Was quick to 
 
 pick up information — Decides to study law — He reached up for his f]-iends — 
 Admitted to the bar at 20 — Settles in the West — The debating club speech — 
 Defends a murderer— A close student — He was the same with peasant and 
 prince — He was a gentleman. 
 
 Jfenry (sPatj, 
 
 (ConiinueD.) 
 
 In the legislature— Grows popular— Triumphs over his rivals— Elected to the 
 United States senate— The father of internal improvements— Advocates the 
 war with England— His services at the Ghent conference— Re-enters the 
 senate— Advocates fostering home industries— Candidate for president— The 
 great compromise— The aged statesman once more in the fray— His eloquence 
 — Marshall's tribute. 
 
CONTENTS. 9 
 
 Things needed by the young — Brains called for — Head must help the hands — 
 Intelligent workmen are the captains of industry — A college course not 
 essential to an education — Perseverance is — The littleness of an "if" — Value 
 of books — Hope for one that fails, but struggle on — Pure metal in men — 
 Getting a trade — Difficulties often our best friends — Working your own jtuft". 
 
 Abram Garfield's death — The poverty of his family — James the roust-about in the 
 clearing — He wants to be a pirate— Becomes interested in a debating club — 
 How orators are made — Starts to sea, but ships on the canal — Home once 
 more and sick — Determines to obey his mother and get an education — His 
 miserable poverty at the seminary — A school teacher — ^Joins the chuich — 
 Atten-ds Hiram college — Begins to preach — Practices extemporaneous speak- 
 ing — At Williams college — A green youth — His wonderful ability to study. 
 
 ^ameA ©K. Syarfiefcj. 
 
 (eoniinueD.) 
 
 Editor of the College Quarterly — Becoming interested in politics — A professor at 
 Hiram — Established as a preacher — Chosen president of Hiram — His breadth 
 of mind — Reads law — A leader in the state senate — His patriotism — Chicka- 
 mauga — A major-general — Elected to congress — Defies the convention at time 
 of his second candidacy, and is nominated for liis pluck — His immortal speecli 
 at the time of Lincoln's assassination — Rapid growth of his popularitv — A 
 constant -"-orker — The splendor of his fame — Elected president — The dawn of 
 peace. 
 
 ©ecix^Ion. 
 
 Life beset with difficulties — Value of being able to comprehend a situation at a 
 glance, and deciding on the spot — Faculty can be trained — Indecision means 
 failure — Even the words may be half battles — Circumstances are to be turned 
 to advantage — Making the best out of mistakes — Men of iron decision usually 
 quiet — Determination following decision — Put yourself on trial. 
 
10 CONTENTS. 
 
 ^fep^en ©K. 5i)ougfa6. 
 
 The majority of America's leaders self-made — Stephen's expectations blighted — 
 Strikes out for himself — Becomes a cabinet-maker — What may be done in a 
 trade — Broken health — Reads law — A born politician — Twenty years old, he 
 starts West to grow up with the country — Sick and a wanderer — Teaches 
 school — Opens a law office — Makes his first political speech — Turns a conven- 
 tion of democrats into Jackson democrats and becomes the "Little Giant" — 
 Organizes the party in the state. 
 
 lep'^en (aK. ©ougfaA. 
 
 (ConcinueD.) 
 
 Defeated for congress — Appointed a supreme judge — Captures Brigham Young 
 and the apostles — At the age of 27 comes within three votes of being elected 
 to the United States senate — In congress — The elements of a popular orator — 
 Defends Jackson — Elected to the senate — Missouri compromise — Popular 
 sovereignty — His inllexible will — The great debate — Defeated for president — 
 His patriotic advice to president Lincoln — An incident. 
 
 £)erxi)e^erance. 
 
 Robert the Bruce — The gift of continuance — Labor is not a curse — Perseverance 
 must be directed by intelligence — Working by starts — More difference in the 
 energy of men than in their talents — How some people manage to get abused 
 — Secret of waiting — Toiling for a lifetime — Genius is patience — Conquering 
 lying abed — Hard work will triumph over caste — Tenterden a barber's boy and 
 became lord chief justice — Ruined by a clerkship— Have a little business of 
 your own — Eminence seldom lies over an easy road — Orators not born — 'I he 
 beforehand drudgery of the great orators — Nearly all successful men ha\ e 
 gone through an amount of study which of itself was more work than most 
 men perform in a lifetime — Unwearied patience — Make a needle out of a 
 crowbar — The many who fail for never learning the secret there is in hard 
 work. 
 
 r^o6ert G. Isee. 
 
 Illustrious parentage— At college— Habits of the boy— Enters West Point— Index 
 
fUJ\'TEyTS. 1 1 
 
 of character — Love of home — His piety — Influence of religion — His honesty 
 — A lieutenant — In Mexico — General Scott compliments him — Captures old 
 John Brown — Secession — With his State or Nation, which? — Goes with his 
 State — A Confederate general— The Richmond campaign — His estimate of 
 Stonewall Jackson. 
 
 Po6ert &. Isee. 
 
 (ConTinueD.) 
 
 Some men bound to succeed — Lee wedded to his business — Wins the confidence 
 of the army — Hatred of military trappings — Trifles — McClellan's chance — 
 The Confederacy stayed in Lee — Fredericksburg — Gettysburg — Lives with 
 the soldiers — Grant's tactics — The South desires him to assume dictatorship — 
 Appamattox — Feelings towards the Union — Elected president of Washington 
 College — Brilliant success — Illness — " Hill must come up " — Death. 
 
 S^u/irie/j eK'a'Bit/, 
 
 Nature is no more powerful to control a man than his settled habits — Why there 
 are no bankruptcies in Holland — Moralitv of habits — How habits grow on us 
 Our success in a measure depends on our habits — The value of industry — 
 Why one of loose habits is always an imprudent person — Men who are indus- 
 trious by force of habit get on well — Habits of successful professional men — 
 Power of a determined purpose in forming habits — This one thing I do — 
 Habit of controlling self — Talking too much — Bad eftects of haste — The 
 company we keep — Slipshod workers — Punctuality — Crowd your business — 
 Method and despatch — Habits once formed run themselves. 
 
 S^ux^inex^x^ ©ruiLgeru. 
 
 Impracticable men — Dry details — Great workers have not despised the drudgery 
 of their business — Business won through immense work — To become dis- 
 tinguished is to toil — Genius is protracted patience — Never neglect any thing — 
 Princes in business have won by ceaseless toil — No easy chairs — An equiva- 
 lent must be given for results — Only weak men spurn little things — No royal 
 road — A march through mud, and din, and toil. 
 
12 CONTENTS. 
 
 qK. ©I. (i)i'ea:)arf. 
 
 Mercantile failures — Elements of a business man — Avoid changes — A. T. Stewart 
 as a model — Heaven helps those who help themselves — His consecration to his 
 
 business — A time and a place for everything — Hard times — Far sighted 
 
 Never borrowed — His masterly economy — His honesty — Discharging clerks 
 
 His immense sales — Acquires a vast fortune — The merchant prince. 
 
 ^eff-r^eP 
 
 lance. 
 
 The key that unlocks difficulties — The secret of most failures — Self-reliance like a 
 ridge-pole — Wliat to teacli the boys — The way one can make up for lack of 
 ability — Looking up — Importance of thinking well of our work — Value of 
 ambition — Hurry as an evidence of weakness — Don't lean on others — Men 
 risen from the ranks — Bonaparte at Austerlitz. 
 
 Kentucky boy with grit — At Salem mill— -Buys Radford's store — Sells it to 
 Abraham Lincoln — Abraham Lincoln, Richard Yates, William G. Greene — 
 Git that little feller a warm supper — A natural bias for business — Greene a 
 born money getter — His self-reliance — Goes to the Black Hawk war — Quits 
 college with forty dollars more than he entered with — Keeps his expenses 
 below his income — Economy is a great source of wealth — Steadily refuses to 
 speculate —Lincoln helps him beat a gambler — He begins to think. 
 
 ©N^IfPiarT] g;. (S^reene. 
 
 (concinueo.) 
 
 Certain times favorable to good resolutions — Where the roads of life fork — Every 
 life has a turning point — Begins business in Memphis on $125 — In three years 
 cleared $4,000, but decides to follow his natural promptings and goes onto a 
 farm — How he farms — Farming a science to be studied — Requires biains to 
 make monev on a farm — The farmer of the future — The farmer the corner 
 stone of the world's commerce — Drive business for all it is worth — Makes 
 some monev every year — From poverty to $600,000. 
 
'^\i44i4)i ^ aIow ^Mwfi 
 
^ijpj]f;s^ ^ ^L'Ov/ -qH^Q^/xfi. 
 
 t-t— "G-'^JS'J^J; 
 
 He that believeth shall not make haste. — Isaiah xxz'iii, i6. 
 
 No man can end with being superior who will not begin with being inferior. 
 
 — Sitiiiiy Smil/t. 
 
 Success in most things depends on knowing how long it takes to succeed. 
 
 — Moutesqiiteu. 
 
^^mn^ of ]i^<k^!i^?|. 
 
 E see a difference in the abilities of men as plainly 
 as we see their faces are not alike. One man has 
 been cut out by nature for one calling, and his neigh- 
 bor for another ; but varied as arc these vocations, no one 
 need go to the grave with the sad confession that his life has 
 been a failure. The world gives every man a fighting 
 chance ; and the " Genius of Industry " hopes to help those 
 who have faith in the value of honest, old fashioned, hard 
 work. We so seldom see one step to fame and wealth in a 
 day. We ought to feel that for us '' there is no excellence 
 without great labor." To succeed in life we do not need 
 greatness so much as we need industry and the ability to 
 wait. To be able to continue patiently in well doing is the 
 very best kind of genius. In each community we find that 
 the honors and riches of the mechanical ci'afts, of the farm 
 and the professional life have been won by men distinguished 
 rather for sound judgment and close application than for 
 brilliancy. Their success has been a slow growth, but they 
 have succeeded, and at the close of life that means every- 
 thins 
 
16 THE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 To you who will make the trial we offer a helping hand 
 along this pathway. Our borders may not alwa}-s be 
 strewn with roses, we may not be the equal of some of the 
 friends about us, but we will go on believing that work will 
 win and manhood grow. 
 
 Men, like vessels, are thrown on to the sea of life, ditier- 
 ing in construction and capacity. All can not carr}' the 
 same burden, nor ride safel}' through the same storms. 
 Some are very humble, feeling that they must be contented, 
 like fishing smacks, to sail in shallow waters. Others are 
 like ships of a thousand tons, fitted to carry the commerce 
 of nations ; while here and there is one that is undoubtedly 
 designed for a flag ship. 
 
 Our purpose in this volume is to examine the reasons of 
 these inequalities ; to remind the successful of the responsi- 
 bilities attending their position, and of the necessity for 
 continued effort if they would continue to prosper ; and to 
 show others that patient endeavor, if reasonabl}^ well 
 directed, will most assuredly achieve gratifying results ; in 
 a word, that perseverance, rather than the fitful efforts of 
 natural ability, however great, is the key to success, hi 
 discussing the elements that enter into a successful life, we 
 can not hope to consider all details. The world is. scarcely 
 large enough to contain such a book. Only a few points of 
 vital interest will be taken up — those without which no man 
 can hope to triumph. 
 
 It is said some men succeed in defiance of all rules. 
 They ma}', in spite of all rules recognized by the mass of 
 men, for the mass is unobservant ; but, visible or invisible, 
 rules there are, governing with imperious sway, which no 
 man who hopes for preferment ma)* disobe}-. Inflexibility 
 is a characteristic of the laws of business. Circumstances 
 
SUCCESS A SLOW GROWTH. 17 
 
 may be overruled, but the ordinances of trade are sure and 
 changeless. He who violates them must certainly pay the 
 penalty ; but this is not more sure than that victory is 
 wrought out by toil b}' those who accept its stern exactions. 
 Let a man, then, who would win in the race of life, put 
 himself fairly and squarely on the track, to begin with, and 
 let him be sure that he can be reconciled to whatever prize 
 awaits him. Having so far settled it, what remains for him 
 to do is to adjust himself to his surroundings. 
 
 Flying at our mast-head is this motto : Success a slow 
 GROWTH. The introduction to the problem we have before 
 us relates itself to Time. This is a factor which to despise 
 is to ruin our work in its very inception. He who would 
 command enduring success must spend long, weary j^ears 
 either in careful preparation or arduous struggle. More 
 men fail in life for lack of persistent effort than for lack of 
 genius. 
 
 It is an established fact that the majority of those young 
 men who start in life under the most favorable auspices fail 
 of making their mark. The very character of success is 
 such that it tends to paralyze their efforts. Success to an 
 experienced man kindles perseverance, blowing energy to a 
 white heat. But the novice, crowned with a few glories, 
 finds in them a siren that lulls to sleep all his energies. It 
 leads him into the delusion that he was born under a lucky 
 star, and therefore the gods will care for him. Although 
 we Americans boast so greatl}' about our individualit}', and 
 reject positively the doctrine of fatalism, down deep in the 
 heart there lurks a shadowy but potent impression that it is 
 better to be born lucky than rich. There never was a 
 greater fallacy. " Luck " is the prize of him who takes it. 
 
18 TUB GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 The word is the euphuism of the weak to excuse their 
 weakness. 
 
 Early achievements in business, in Hterature, or on the 
 forum, certainly tell of unusual powers, and if the physical 
 and mental organizations are well balanced and well pre- 
 served, we may pretty safely prophesy of things yet to 
 come. John Quinc}' Adams, when seven years old, was 
 called into the presence of the famil}-, where he delivered a 
 speech creditable to a lad of fourteen. You may call this 
 precocity. But if so, it was attended by growth. Nor 
 did he ever stop growth. Having won the title of " Old 
 Man Eloquent," he died at an advanced age on the floor of 
 Congress. Bonaparte, at school, on the field where the 
 students had their snow forts, was the miniature of the 
 general who led the phalanxes of France with success 
 against the five coalitions of Austria. William Cullen 
 Bryant, at the age of nineteen, wrote " Thanatopsis," a 
 poem admired and quoted wherever literature is loved. 
 After scattering immortal gems along his path for sixty-six 
 years, at the age of eighty-two he sent forth the " Flood 
 of Years," which for lofty imagery and superb diction has 
 been excelled by no one, and rareh' equaled b}' himself Yet 
 in the face of these illustrious examples of bright 3-outh 
 and stalwart age, it is a fact that the majorit}' of brilliant 
 young men soon fail, and are heard of no more. 
 
 Persistence will tell against mere brilliancy. Many of 
 the most famous men were not remarkable in their youth 
 for anything but dullness. Julius Coesar was very ordinary 
 in mind and aspiration. It was only after severe seasons of 
 experience that he developed such capacity as enabled him 
 to command unconquerable legions, and to become the 
 world's type of an unbounded ambition. Hudibras was 
 
SUCCESS A SLOW GROWTH. 19 
 
 accounted the wittiest book of the times, but Charles II 
 pronounced its author a stupid blockhead. The brilliant 
 Sheridan, in his bo}hood, was branded a hopeless dunce. 
 Shakspeare, we are told, was prodigiously dull before he 
 came to his teens. Martin Luther was such a blunderer at 
 his books that he himself records fifteen whippings he 
 received in one forenoon, foi^ failure in recitations, and 
 although he denounces his teachers as tyrants, it does not 
 appear that they were ever able to arouse his torpid mind. 
 While at Mansfield he begged from door to door, possess- 
 ing nothing but a musical voice and the scraps of food cast 
 into his bag. A superstitious dread of what might come to 
 pass drove him into religion, and in after years he said: 
 " It was one of God's ways of making men out of beggars, 
 as He made the world out of nothing." Daniel Webster 
 was never head in his classes. Indeed, he was averse to 
 study. He says that up to fifteen 3'ears of age the Friday 
 evening declamation was his mortal dread. Patrick Henry 
 was a shirk at work and a lout at study until after he was 
 thirty. Beecher, with all his brilliancy and munificent gifts, 
 was recognized as common at school, his dilatoriness in 
 study and' love of fun being his most marked characteristics. 
 Some minds are ai^oused to activity more slowl}' than 
 others, just as some bodies are of slow physical growth. 
 While it is not always true that early development 
 involves earl}' decay, yet a late development is not to be 
 regretted. It saves one from many stumblings and humb- 
 lings. It is attended by less risks. It brings a no less val- 
 uable life when it begins unfolding. The youthful mind 
 may indeed be dormant, but to struggle as did Webster 
 with the policies of a nation, or Bernard Palissy for an 
 artistic effect, or Newton for a demonstration of the law of 
 
20 TEE GENIUS OP INDUSTRY. 
 
 gravitation, tliough it take a score of years to reach the 
 result, gives a character, when it comes, that extends in all 
 directions over the life of the discoverer. The mere publi- 
 cation of Les Miserables did not give Hugo his reputation 
 as a writer, nor did the battle of Waterloo make Welling- 
 ton a great commander. Great works do not make great- 
 ness; the}' only reveal it. Hugo had been a mighty 
 thinker and rhetorician, and Wellington a might}' warrior, 
 for many years. One is as truly great through the long 
 years of labor he patiently puts forth to accomplish the end, 
 as on the day he takes the world's diploma as a master. 
 No man is great who has to stud}' tactics and prepare him- 
 self after the battle-call has sounded. 
 
 Rely not upon prestige or the help of friends for success. 
 The day for that has passed. If you would win, you must 
 win with your own clear head and resolute heart backing 
 the nervous efforts of your own strong arm. Without 
 these you will be dashed aside with a giant's stroke. Il 
 some men you know came to the top without a struggle, 
 don't you try it. The very fact that they have arisen 
 proves them to have possessed energies unknown to you. 
 It is one of the principles of justice, that only the industri- 
 ous shall attain to permanent success. Ill-gained wealth 
 easily departs. 
 
 We have often thought it fortunate that youth fails to 
 foresee the burdens before it. Take our boys as they enter 
 school, their souls all aflame with educational desires, and 
 point out to them the seven years' mental toil to be under- 
 gone — the weary hours, the headaches, the mortifications 
 and prostrations, the faggings and the fears — and one-half 
 would hesitate to enter college. 
 
 The pursuit and possession of success, after all, yield a 
 
SUCCESS A SLOW GROWTH. 21 
 
 greater amount of happiness than any other earthly object. 
 Love and labor are both barren without a summit toward 
 which to climb. The mountain air of hope is crisp with 
 the dews of endeavor, ascending with us step by step; and 
 though we may be jagged by the pointed rocks, yet out of 
 their crevices flows the balm that heals us. Disraeli affords 
 a striking example of how much toil and endurance of fail- 
 ure one must sometimes pa}' for eminence. He overcame 
 more obstacles and worked harder for his "throne" than 
 any living Englishman. Like many other great men, he 
 reached success only through a series of failures. Fortu- 
 nate is that man whom failure energizes. At the outset of 
 his career he was considered a literary lunatic. His 
 "Wondrous Tale of Alroy " and ''Revolutionary Epic" 
 were regarded with derision. Like a true man, he was 
 stung by this disappointment, 3'et he worked on the more 
 assiduously, and " Sibyl " and " Tancred " began to display 
 the sterling metal of which he was made. His ambition 
 prompted him to seek the forum. But here, too, his first 
 effort was a failure. His opening speech in the House of 
 Commons was pronounced " more screaming than an Adel- 
 phi farce." Conceived in elevated thought and composed 
 in ambitious diction, " Every sentence was hailed with loud 
 laughter." "Hamlet played as a comedy were nothing to 
 it." But he closed' that effort with a sentence which once 
 more revealed the man. Writhing under the jeers with 
 which his studied eloquence had been received, he shook his 
 long, bony fingers at the House, and vehemently exclaimed : 
 " I have begun several times many things, and have suc- 
 ceeded in them at last. I will sit down now, but the time 
 will come when 3'ou will hear me." Once more he set him- 
 self to work. He carefully unlearned his faults, closely 
 
22 THE GENIU3 OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 studied the character of his hearers, practiced night and day 
 all the arts of speech, and industriously filled his mind with 
 constitutional law and parliamentary knowledge.- Patient!}' 
 he labored. His prophecy was fulfilled. The House laughed 
 with him, instead of at him. He was one of the most 
 ornate and effective of parliamentary speakers. Crowded 
 galleries and floor hung breathless on his words. The peo- 
 ple now eagerl}' seek after his books, and his manuscripts 
 command almost fabulous prices. He became one of the 
 most popular men in the nation. Disraeli will pass into the 
 history of England "The Great Premier." 
 
 The illustrious John Scott, afterward Lord Eldon, climbed 
 slowly to distinction. Pie rose at four every morning, and 
 studied till late at night, binding a wet towel round his 
 head to keep himself awake. After four years of waiting, 
 his opportunity came. Engaged on a case, he urged a 
 legal point in opposition to the advice of his attorney and 
 client, and lost the case. He appealed to the House of 
 Lords, and Lord Thurlow reversed the decision. As he 
 left the Plouse, a leading solicitor tapped him on the shoul- 
 der, and said: "Young man, your bread and butter's cut 
 for life." In about ten years from his call to the bar, he 
 was on the road to its highest honors. 
 
 Through this same long-toiling process has come the 
 majority of our great journalists. Greeley, Brooks and Bry- 
 ant went to their beds at night as thoroughly tired as the men 
 who worked their old-fashioned hand-presses. These men 
 have shone in journalism; but in this, like ever}- profession, 
 it takes hard work to put the gloss on. James Gordon 
 Bennett issued the first number of the Ne-u Tork Herald 
 from a cellar on Ann Street. It was a poverty-stricken 
 cellar, and the editor's writing-desk was a board stretched 
 
SUCCESS A SLOW GROWTH. '^3 
 
 across the head of a barrel. Bennett was poor and 
 unknown. He was without patronage, and had no back- 
 ers. He was his own clerk, reporter, editor and errand 
 bo}'; he wrote all the articles that appeared in the Herald., 
 wrote many of the advertisements, and superintended the 
 selling of the paper. The office was without comforts, and 
 the editor's only hope of success rested on his indomitable 
 confidence in the world's justice — that (he man -voiild be 
 recognized loho continued to do Ids luork ivcll. Few papers 
 have been called upon to engage in such battles as the 
 Herald has passed through. Its editor nev^r once relaxed 
 his vast energies; he raised the little obscure penny sheet 
 by gradual steps for inore than a generation, until it came 
 to be recognized as the most enterprising paper in the 
 world, and a power in the land. Mr. Bennett died at an 
 advanced age, leaving the magnificent Herald building and 
 his own colossal fortune as a standing monument of what 
 may be accomplished by an active purpose in a life-time. 
 
 The mass of successful financiers, like the majority of 
 great men in other departments of business, have been 
 compelled, after labor, to await the natural growth of 
 results. Many fortunes have been realized on a sudden by 
 speculation, but the majority are no sooner risen than, " like 
 the Coal Oil Prince, they are busted." The fortune that 
 abides with a man is built up by the gradual accretions of 
 laborious years. 
 
 George Peabody furnishes an eminent illustration of our 
 general thought. His vast fortune was won through the 
 careful application of long years. In 1856 when on a visit 
 to Danvers, now named Peabod}', in honor of him, its most 
 distinguished son and greatest benefactor, he said: 
 
 " Though Providence has granted me an unvaried and 
 
24 THE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 unusual success in the pursuit of fortune in other lands, I 
 am still, in heart, the humble boy who left yonder unpre- 
 tending dwelling. There is not a youth within the sound 
 of my voice whose early opportunities and advantages are 
 not very much greater than were m}' own, and I have since 
 achieved nothing that is impossible to the humblest boy 
 among you." 
 
 The bulk of Mr. Vanderbilt's fortune was earned after he 
 was fifty years of age, and his heaviest operations were 
 consummated when he was beyond three-score years. At 
 this period they became appreciable to the world, but to 
 Vanderbilt it had been one continued growth. A. T. 
 Stewart made more mone}' after his fiftieth year than ever 
 before. So did John Jacob Astor. The fortunes of the 
 world have been made by men after the age of fifty — the 
 fifty years previous being spent in establishing physical 
 health and acquiring business knowledge. 
 
 One Lord's Day, Lyman Beecher delivered one of his 
 characteristic discourses before an immense audience. It 
 was pronounced by many to be the finest effort of his life. 
 As he stepped from the pulpit, a brother minister, a young 
 man, approached him and inquired: " Doctor, how long did 
 it take you to get up that sermon.'' " The Doctor smiled 
 down on the youthful aspirant, and said, " Fifty years, 
 sir." 
 
 The class of common day-laborers has furnished us men 
 who ivaiied on success. They have given us Brindly, the 
 engineer. Cook, the navigator, and Burns, the poet. 
 Masons and brickla3'ers can boast of Ben Jonson, who 
 worked at the building of Lincoln's Inn, with a trowel in 
 his hand and a book in his pocket; Edwards and Telford, 
 the engineers, Hugh Miller, the geologist, and Allan Cun- 
 
SUCCESS A SLOW GROWTH. 25 
 
 ningham, the writer and sculptor; while among distin- 
 guished carpenters we find the names of Inigo Jones, the 
 architect, Harrison, the chronometer-maker, John Hunter, 
 the physiologist, Romney and Opie, the painters, Professor 
 Lee. the orientalist, and John Gibson, the sculptor. Among 
 the famous blacksmiths we find, Robert Collyer, the great 
 preacher, and Elihu Burritt, the linguist. All these men 
 have traveled to their emin,ence over the long-established 
 pathway of a life-effort. 
 
 Sir Joshua Re3uiolds said, " Excellence is never granted 
 to man but as the reward of labor." If you have great 
 talents, industry will improve them; if you have but 
 moderate abilities, industry will supply the deficiency. 
 "Nothing is denied to well-directed labor; nothing is to be 
 obtained without it." 
 
 Sir Fowell Buxton was a firm believer in the power of 
 time. In his day, as in ours, men were restive under labor, 
 and impatient at delay. Men fail not because they are not 
 willing to work, but because they will not wait. Unable 
 to reach the highest success in a few years, they conclude 
 they never can reach it. Bu.xton entertained the modest 
 idea that he could do as well as other men if he devoted to 
 the pursuit double the time and labor that they did. He 
 placed his great confidence in ordinary means and extraor- 
 dinary endurance. 
 
 Says the thoughtful Dr. Fowler : " Greatness is beyond 
 a long journey. There may seem to be exceptions, but 
 beware of the fallacy. Carefully studied, the ver}' excep- 
 tions most clearly illustrate the rule. Victory is often a 
 question of time. It is one of the deep encouragements of 
 an age that ordinary men with extraordinary industry reach 
 the highest achievements. 
 
26 TRE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 " Any man with solid moral purpose, patient industry, 
 plain common sense, and unwearying courage, can become 
 a useful and eminent man. Not in a da}', not in a week, 
 not indeed in a year, but in a life-time. Achievements that 
 are remembered cost some one a life-work. There is no 
 hope out of this great law. Sit still and die. Press on and 
 win. The perils of this time come from our haste. We 
 sacrifice every thing for speed. Speed is a good thing, if 
 not purchased at too high a price. It pays to wait for good 
 foundations. A few weeks of time and .a few scores of 
 piles, and the application of a little scientific knowledge, in 
 the single transaction of building one government building 
 in this country, would have saved to the government enough 
 to have founded a great university, and educated a thousand 
 engineers a year for all time to come. AVe are in too great 
 haste for results. Mushrooms may mature in a night, but 
 the cedars of Lebanon grow for fifteen centuries." 
 
 It is a law of our nature that ever}' man can excel in his 
 vocation, and a steadfast principle in business that every 
 man can succeed in his calling. Do not, then, stand on the 
 brink of some desired enterprise, shivering and trembling, 
 but boldly plunge in and breast the waves. You may not 
 achieve all that has crowned the efforts of some men ; but 
 you can dare to do all that becomes a man. It is urged, 
 there are no vacant places. True, there is a great press of 
 people down stairs, but there is plenty of room up stairs. 
 There are more first-class places than there are first-class 
 men to fill them. The world is a rigid world, but in the 
 long run it is an eminently just one. It never needed men 
 more than to-day. It is seeking for worthy men to bestow 
 its honors on. The times ai"e sifting the candidates more 
 rigorously than ever before. All the business thoroughfares 
 
SUCCESS A SLOW GROWTH. 27 
 
 are crowded, but the great mass of men are getting up 
 some new patent process by which to overreach fortune ; 
 or they are taking some short cut to success, while the few 
 who stick to the old beaten road are distancing all their 
 competitors. 
 
 Whatever you do, do it well. You need not be sh}' of 
 your ambition ; the world respects the man who is trying 
 to make something out of himself. Let your aspirations 
 out, and give your inspiration full play. Be strictly honest ; 
 be above a mean act ; be conscientious. Be pleasant with 
 your superiors ; be polite to 3'our inferiors ; be a gentleman. 
 Read the newspapers ; read good books ; read the Bible. 
 Advertise your business ; deal with dispatch ; pay your 
 debts ; don't idle ; don't smoke ; don't chew ; don't swear; 
 don't drink. Cultivate self-assertion ; blow your own 
 trumpet to a moderate degree. Be as the Lord commanded 
 Joshua, "very courageous." Pattern 3-our morals after 
 the world's model, the Nazarine. Concentrate 3-our ener- 
 gies upon one aim. Never permit " give up " a place in 
 3'our vocabulary. Work hard ; be patient ; hope for the 
 best ; and if 3'ou fail to reach the goal of 3'our aspirations, 
 3'ou will possess the proud consciousness of having done 
 3'Our best, which, after all, is the noblest "success in life." 
 The highest praise bestowed b3- the Great Master was, 
 " She hath done what she could." 
 
m^iPAh pmn^- 
 
 My friends, you behold a man dying, full of lifel — AiiqiictH. 
 
 To the strong hand and strong head, the capacious lungs and vigorous frame, 
 fall, and will always fall, the heavy burdens ; and where the heavy burdens fall, the 
 great prizes fall too. — Lazis of Lijc. 
 
T would be a curious and interesting study to trace 
 the variety of opinions that have been held con- 
 cerning the mutual relations of the body and the 
 intellectual principle. The original idea was that body 
 and mind were one and undivided. Anaxagoras, whose 
 glory has been so eclipsed by his pupil and . successor, 
 Socrates, holds the almost matchless merit of announcing, 
 amid a heathen world, and without the light of any external 
 revelation, the existence of a Supreme Intelligence, or Mind, 
 and that man was a compound being, consisting of a body 
 and a spirit. 
 
 Under the early conceptions of man's nature, the body 
 was trained carefully, along with the mind; both were 
 treated as fellow- workers in one cause. The Academe, the 
 Lyceum, and the C3'nosarges were schools for the body as 
 well as the mind ; there the wrestler, the discobolus, and the 
 philosopher met for common purposes. The ancient poets 
 and historians picture all their heroes as physical giants. 
 Hesiod represented the giants as divine beings. Homer 
 says the men of his day were degenerate sons of the heroes 
 of Troy. King Arthur and Charlemagne were said to be 
 greater in stature than common men. And history reported 
 William the Conquerer to be eight feet in height ; but when 
 
30 THE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 his tomb, at Caen, was broken open, and Stowe measured his 
 bones, they were found to be of ordinary size. Alexander 
 the Great, in one of his Asiatic expeditions, caused to be 
 made and left behind him a suit of armor of huge propor- 
 tions, for the purpose of inducing a belief among the people 
 h.e had conquered that he was of very great stature. 
 
 About the time of the Christian era, the body became 
 graduall}- neglected and despised. However, it was not a 
 Christian doctrine, for there we are taught that body and 
 soul are to be preserved blameless! Bod}- and mind came 
 to be reckoned as having separate and antagonistic interests. 
 Philosophers considered the body a clog, an impediment to 
 the acquisition of knowledge. To the post-apostolic Chris- 
 tians the body was sin incarnate, the source of all evil and 
 temptation, the barrier between the soul and hea^■en. When 
 Epictetus, the philosopher, was severely treated by his mas- 
 ter, Epaphroditus, under the most intense agony he smiled, 
 and told him he would break his leg with twisting it. This 
 actually did occur without disturbing his equanimit3'. On 
 being questioned as to the cause of this astonishing compos- 
 ure, he merely replied that the body was '■'■external.'''' 
 
 Gregory Nyssen, in the era of the church fathers, emptied 
 the phials of his abuse upon the body, as " a fuliginous, ill- 
 savored shop, a prison, an ill-savored stink, a lump of flesh 
 which moldereth away, and draweth near to corruption 
 whilst we speak of it." And the Manicheans put the climax 
 to these reproaches by teaching that God was the author of 
 the soul, but the Devil was maker of the bod}'. 
 
 While this last conception has died away as matter of 
 philosophy and faith, still its spirit is manifested in our land 
 to a perilous extent. The influences that surround our intel- 
 lectual young men lead them to despise the body as only a 
 
PUYtilCAL CULTURE. 31 
 
 workshop for the mind, while it grades their intelligence to a 
 preternatural acti\it}-. As- the result of this, the prophesied 
 possessor of the 'wooden spoon" from Yale, or the first 
 honors from our standard colleges, sinks into the darkness of 
 mediocrity, and the rough-and-tumble boy from the log 
 school-house or flat-boat moves up to the helm of affairs. 
 
 We have no right to build up the mind at the expense of 
 the body. If some giant-framed Bodine, whose remains 
 Buftbn would take for a fossil elephant, has dissipated and 
 caroused for sixty years without destroying his mental pow- 
 ers, that is no reason why the mass of men should deem the 
 body a Gibraltar that can not be overthrown. As well 
 might we expect a house to stand when the foundation is 
 taken from under it, as to demand intellectual vigor from a 
 man whose physical health and strength have been wrecked 
 One of the first requisites of a successful life is a good 
 physique. 
 
 Intellectual culture has come to be a mania, and it is fos- 
 tered by a popular disapprobation of manly sports. The 
 college regattas are sneered at by the papers. The "move- 
 ment cure," gymnasiums, and health-lifts are laughed at by 
 physicians. Base ball has been classed with faro, and cro- 
 quet has been surnamed " Presbyterian billiards." Ph3'sical 
 prowess is nearly a shame, and every American is trj'ing to 
 crawl out of his body into his head. Pharmaceutical nos- 
 trums are poured down e^'ery puny, emaciated creature that 
 is dying from a poor circulation and lack of exercise. The 
 feet are crowded into little boots, the hands pinched by kids, 
 the body as thinly draped as that of a Feejee Islander, and 
 yet men are trying to have their brain weigh as much as 
 Webster's. 
 
 If we take a look at the English character, we find a 
 
32 TUB GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 wholesome commentary on our intellectual stuffing. An 
 Englishman thinks as much of his stomach as he does of his 
 brain. Confessedly the Englishwoman is not so good look- 
 ing as the American woman, but then she is a beef-eater. 
 She takes exercise, she has muscle, she honors her body, not 
 for its looks, but for its worth. The English people are 
 "good feeders,'' and vigorous indulgers in sports. Cricket 
 and all the kindred plays are indulged in by lords and ladies, 
 commoners and laborers. Charles James Fox, with all his 
 adipose, could pick up a tennis ball with the ease of a strip- 
 ling. The athletic sports of Oxford and Cambridge are of 
 national interest. E\en Parliament adjourns over Derby 
 day. Englishmen take to exercise like the Germans to 
 beer. It is national, and they present the world a square- 
 built, solid race of men, capable of tremendous exertion and 
 long endurance. 
 
 This English virtue is not to be despised by Americans. 
 Muscle will tell when it comes to brain work. Set two men 
 of equal mind-power to an equal intellectual task, and the 
 physically frail man will not perform his work as creditably 
 as the one with an iron constitution. Hence, English states- 
 men, officers, and literary men perform more brain \vork 
 than any other people. The ro3'al family and those ele\ated 
 to high positions within the realm, live far beyond the com- 
 mon average of 3ears. Is it not because life becomes 
 an " item," and therefore the most strictly scientific and 
 medical attention is paid to its interests.^ The American 
 seems to calculate on a short life, apparently preferring a 
 brief and railroad rate of existence to a sluggish longe\'ity. 
 At present we waste almost every thing in our haste — our 
 land as much as our lives. 
 
 The American scholar and thinker is by rule a dyspeptic. 
 
PHYSICAL CULTURE. 33 
 
 He is a razor-faced, lantern-jawed, thin, nervous man. This 
 is partly the effect of climate, and partly that of diet and 
 regimen. In the old days of bran-bread and prayers before 
 daylight in the colleges, and long morning walks before 
 breakfast, and suicidal, consumpti\e habits, it required a 
 pretty tough man to live through his studies at all. We are 
 now doing this thing better, but we have not reached the 
 highest outcome of the change, and shall not reach it, prob- 
 ably, for several generations. But we have come to the 
 recognition of the fact that it does not toughen a man to 
 reduce his diet, to cut short his sleep, to take long walks on 
 an empty stomach, and to indulge in cold baths when there 
 is no well-supported \itality to respond to them. We have 
 come to the conviction that, for a useful public life, brains are 
 of very little account if there are no inuscles to do their 
 bidding. In short, we have learned that, without physical 
 vitality, the profoundest learning, the most charming talents, 
 and the best accomplishments are of little use to a public 
 man, in whatever field of professional life he may be engaged. 
 
 The London Times of Oct. 2S, 1857, had a vigorous and 
 thoughtful article on building up the mind at the expense of 
 the body, from which we extract liberall}- : 
 
 '' It has been too much the fashion with us to decry the 
 body, to talk it down, to speak scornfully of it in every pos- 
 sible way, to be always comparing it with the mind for the 
 sole purpose of showing how \-ile and worthless it is in com- 
 parison, — a mode of speaking which, even if it is true 
 abstractedly, may be indulged in such a degree as to involve 
 a practical untruth. Our didactic books have been full of 
 the praises of midnight oil, all our oracles of learning have 
 been vehement in favor of unsparing study, and the mind 
 
34 THE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 has been subjected to the most acute stimulants, while the 
 body has been left to take care of itself as it can. 
 
 " These have been the tactics, we say, of our modern 
 masters of the schools and encouragers of learning — an 
 unsparing use of the goad, a merciless appeal to student 
 ambition and emulation, as if it was impossible to stir up 
 these motives too deeply. But how one-sided is a di^ipline 
 which applies this powerfully sharp and penetrating stimulus 
 to the mind, while it leaves to itself, or, rather, what is worse, 
 suppresses and flings aside the claims of the body, which 
 has to fare as it can under the exclusive and oppressive 
 dominion of its rival ! How partial is such a system, and 
 superficial because partial ! After all our sublime abuse of 
 the body, a bod}' man has, and that body is part of himself ; 
 and if he is not fair to it, he himself will be the sufferer. 
 The whole man, we say, will be the sufferer — not the cor- 
 poreal man only, but the intellectual man as well. Par- 
 ticular capacities may receive even a monstrous develop- 
 ment by the use of an exclusive stimulus, but the reason and 
 judgment of the man as a whole must be injured if one* integ- 
 ral part of him is diseased. If the body is thoroughly out 
 of condition, the mind will suffer ; it may show a morbid 
 enlargement of one or other facult}' of it, but the directing 
 principle — that which alone can apply any faculty or knowl- 
 edge to a good purpose, can regulate its use and check its 
 extravagances — is weakened and reduced. How miserable is 
 the spectacle of morbid learning, with its buried hoards, and 
 its voracious, insatiable appetite for acquisition, united with 
 the judgment of a child ! The picture of a Kirke White 
 dying at the age of twenty-one, of nocturnal study, wet tow- 
 els round heated temples, want of sleep, want of exercise, 
 want of air, want of everything which Nature intended for 
 
PETSrCAL CULTURE. 35 
 
 the body, is not only melancholy because it is connected with 
 an early death — it is melancholy also on account of the cer- 
 tain eftect which would have followed such a course unchecked 
 if he had li\ed. We see, when we look down the vista of 
 such a life, an enfeebled and a prostrated man, very fit to be 
 made a lion of, like a clever child, and to be patted on the 
 head by patrons and patronesses of genius, but without the 
 proper intellect and judgment of a man. How sad even is 
 the spectacle of that giant of German learning, Neander, 
 lying his whole length on the floor among his books, absorb- 
 ing recondite matter till the stupor of repletion comes over 
 hiin, forgetful of time and place, not knowing where he is, 
 on the earth or in the moon, led like a child by his sister to 
 his lecture-rooin, when the lecture hour came, and led away 
 home again when it was over ! Is this humanity, we ask, 
 as Providence designed us to be? Is it legitimate, rational 
 human nature? It can hardly be called so. 
 
 " We must not let the mind feed itself by the ruin of the 
 body. The mind should be a good, strong, healthy feeder, 
 but not a glutton. Do not use too unsparingly the motive 
 of ambition in dealing with youth. It is a motive which is 
 perfectly honest and natural, within proper limits; but, 
 when pushed to excess, it produces a feeble, sickly, 
 unmanly growth of character; it creates that whole brood 
 of fantastic theorists, sentimentalists, and speculators which, 
 in art, science, and theology alike, are the seducers and the 
 corruptors of mankind." 
 
 There can be no doubt that excessive mental labor has 
 an unfavorable influence upon the health and the character, 
 ruining the former, and rendering the latter " feeble, sickly, 
 and unmanly," and that this is especially the case with 
 young persons. It is also true that, in our educational 
 
36 THE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 systems generally, the body is neglected, and, at its 
 expense, the mind is urged beyond its normal powers. 
 
 We believe, with Anaxagoras, that man is a duality, 
 compounded of body and mind; yet we must go beyond 
 him, and accept the more remote ancients, who made the 
 whole man an indivisible unit. Therefore, it must be 
 granted that health is one of the ingredients of talent. 
 What could Frederick the Great have accomplished 
 without health.^ He did not move his armies and rule his 
 states by the intuition of genius — no great man ever had 
 less of it — and he was one of the greatest of men. His 
 early efforts in the field were covered with the most shame- 
 ful blunders. By intense application he mastered military 
 tactics. Like Newton, he gave himself unto it. He would 
 trust no man; without cabinet officers, and with but few 
 clerks, from his butcher's bill to the gravest affairs of state, 
 he exercised personal supervision over all, and ruled single- 
 handed. What enabled him to do it.'' Not brain-power 
 simply, but a physical constitution that labored eighteen 
 hours out of twenty-four, and never felt fatigue for seventy- 
 four years. A Kirke White or a Blaise Pascal, with all 
 their genius, would have gone to their graves in two years 
 under such labors, or been flattened to hopeless mediocrity. 
 Had Hannibal been less a Hercules, he would not have held 
 Rome at bay until his hair was white. And Audubon 
 could never have roamed over the forests, enduring the 
 hardships and misfortunes he encountered, had his lignum- 
 \ itum been less fibrous. Ever}' man of learning will say 
 that the ferocious courage of Charles XII of Sweden, the 
 mighty pluck of Mirabeau, and the colossal works of 
 Walter Scott gained a great portion of their power and 
 vastness from unusual physical constitution. 
 
PHYSICAL CULTURE. 37 
 
 To understand, conceive, and scheme, a well-developed 
 forehead is needed; to drive, execute, and overturn, a full 
 back head is needed. Who ever saw a man possessing the 
 forehead of Benjamin Franklin, and the base of the brain 
 without development, as in Coleridge, execute any heroic 
 work? There is Thomas De Quincey, with the frontal of 
 poet, philosopher, and warrior, but the base of his brain 
 was a cavity. The man who climbed the rafters while 
 his wife whipped the bear had as much resolution as De 
 Quincey. A Julius Caesar may be little, suffer from the 
 dyspepsia, and have a tit ever}- time he plans a battle; but 
 the bumps on the back of his head are as large as they are 
 in front; and the world must take care of its dominions 
 when such men march to execute their schemes. In a word, 
 man is an animal as well as an intellectual being, and, 
 while the brain conceives and projects, it is the animal that 
 furnishes the backbone, and pushes the design with vigor. 
 
 Dr. Holland, in his customar}- manner, testifies to the 
 importance of physical culture, while taking a survey of the 
 New York and Brooklyn pulpits: 
 
 " The two great men of the Brooklyn pulpit are splendid 
 men physically, and they never could have been the powers 
 they are had they been otherwise. Dr. Chapin and Robert 
 Collyer, though fine and strong in intellectual fiber, are not 
 so exceptional!}- remarkable in that particular as to account 
 for their long strong hold upon the public mind. The two 
 Boston preachers who draw the largest crowds, Mr. Phillips 
 Brooks and Mr. Murray, are men of entirely exceptional 
 physique — hard to be matched anywhere in the world for 
 size and strength. It is an inspiration to look at them. 
 Their presence is magnetic. They exercise a charm which 
 can only come from complete manhood — the equipoise of 
 
38 THE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 thought and intent with voice and might. If we turn to our 
 own city, and see where the crowds are, we shall find them 
 at Dr. Hall's and Dr. Taylor's. Mr. Hepworth's church, 
 too, is usually a crowded one. It is no dishonor to these 
 men to say that the people do not flock to them because 
 they preach the best sermons to be heard in New York. 
 There are a dozen pulpits furnished with as good brains as 
 these. The simple truth is that, if they were called upon to 
 preach with a slender physique and a weak voice, their 
 crowds would leave them." 
 
 Oyer brain work maj' destroy the ver}' finest physical 
 organization. Southey had sinews of steel, and yet he died 
 in darkness from over-toil. Sir Walter Scott, with a natu- 
 ral ability to dispatch work such as few literary men have 
 possessed, inherited a vigorous constitution, and sought to 
 keep it intact. When writing Waverly he would " pen all 
 morning like a tiger," and race his horse all afternoon in tlie 
 chase. But when he became involved in debt, be had no 
 time to give his body rest and exercise. Speaking of the 
 debt, he said: "This right hand shall work it off. If we 
 lose every thing else, we will at least keep our honor 
 unblemished." He threw himself into his task as a soldier 
 in the forlorn hope flings himself into the jaws of death. He 
 rushed through Woodstock, told the Tales of a Grandfather, 
 revised his novels, wrote his Letters on Demonology and 
 Witchcraft when his health was so undermined he could 
 scarcely hold his pen. When he threw off the Life of 
 Napoleon, he wrote in his diary, " These battles have been 
 the death of many a man. I think the}' will be mine." 
 And at last, after having Anglo-Saxonized the language of 
 Europe, and made a literature, he broke down physically at 
 
PHYSICAL CULTURE. 39 
 
 fifty-five, and went to his grave at sixty with a softened 
 brain. 
 
 " From Marlborough's eyes the tears of dotage flow, 
 
 And Swift expires a driveler, and a show." 
 
 Minds that could wander through eternity wrecked for 
 lack of a few hours daily spent in physical culture! '-My 
 brain is burning, I can bear life no longer! " said the author 
 of the Old Red Sandstone, and the suicide's pistol puts on 
 the finishing stroke. Hugh Miller was, intellectually, a 
 giant, and, physically, possessed a frame of iron; but he \io- 
 lated the laws which govern health — he taxed his brain with 
 more toil than it could well perform; it reeled and staggered, 
 but it reeled and staggered in vain. He pulled away and 
 lashed it into fur}', and he perished to gratify his genius and 
 his ambition. 
 
 There are men who overtax their minds all day long, 
 through months and years, ignorant that there is a subtle but 
 inevitable connection between dyspepsia and too much men- 
 tal exertion. It is a thing which every man should under- 
 stand, that there is a point beyond which, if he urge his 
 brain, the injurious result will be felt, not in the head, but in 
 the stomach. Did not the overtaxed nerves of Cicero first 
 cry out in his stomach.'' It was not until after he had fled 
 before dyspepsia to the gymnasium, and lived on hygiene 
 and cracked corn for two years that " he pulverized Catiline 
 and blasted Anton}'." Beecher says: 
 
 '' There is scarcely one man in a hundred who supposes 
 that he must ask leave of his stomach to be a happy man. 
 In many cases the difference between happy men and 
 unhappy men is caused by their digestion. Oftentimes the 
 difference between hopeful men and melancholy men is 
 simply the difference of their digestion. There is much that 
 
40 THE OEISIUS OF INDUtjTllT. 
 
 is called spiritual ailment that is nothing but stomachic ail- 
 ment. I have, during my experience as a religious teacher, 
 had persons call upon mc with that hollow cheek, that 
 emaciated face, and that peculiar look which indicate the 
 existence of this cerebral and stomachic difficulty, to tell me 
 about their trials and temptations; and, whatever I may 
 have said to them, my inward thought has been, ' There is 
 ver}' little help that can be afforded you till your health is 
 established.' The foundation of all earthly happiness is 
 physical health; and yet men scared}' ever value it till they 
 have lost it." 
 
 Dr. J. W. Alexander testified to the same point. When 
 asked if he enjoyed the full assurance of faith, he answered: 
 " I think I do, except when the wind is from the east." 
 Hodson, of Hodson's House, wrote back to a friend in 
 England: "I believe if I get on well in India, it will be 
 owing, physically speaking, to a sound digestion." It is said 
 that Elihu Burritt found hard labor necessary to his health, 
 and more than once went back to the leather apron and 
 forge for the sake of body and mind. 
 
 Mental over-work is the great American disease. It is 
 not confined to the study alone, but is visible in the count- 
 ing-room and all the branches of trade. How many men, 
 like Dean Swift, are "dying a-top first." It may take on 
 the form of paralysis or apoplexy, but the real cause lies in 
 an over-worked brain. This mental collapse is not confined 
 to our shores; the English and French are burdened with 
 the same affliction. One of the valuable lessons to be educed 
 from the life and death of the late M. Thiers is that which 
 teaches brain workers the necessar}' limits of mental endur- 
 ance. An able writer in the New York World says : 
 
 " It appears that Thiers became so morbidly nervous 
 
PHr.iICAL CULTURE. 41 
 
 toward the close of his career, that the breaking of waves on 
 the shore at Dieppe, and the whispering of the wind through 
 the tree-tops of a forest, were to him intolerable noises, 
 while the fall of a knife on the floor of the room in which he 
 had shut himself up for the sake of quiet, nearly drove him 
 to distraction. All the political troubles of his later life 
 were as nothing in comparison with trouble caused by those 
 gentle and soothing sounds of nature — the wind and the 
 wave. 
 
 " It is well known that Thiers led an intensely busy life in 
 the line of literary producti\eness. He wrote, spoke, and 
 talked incessantly. His brain was in a constant whirl of 
 movement and activity. His historical and political writ- 
 ings alone constitute the work of an ordinary intellect for a 
 lifetime. And by this prolonged strain and mental worry, 
 he prepared himself for the sudden stroke of paralysis which 
 ended his career." 
 
 There is a Hmit to mental endurance. When this limit 
 is reached, a Samson is as likel}- to retire with a soft head 
 or paralysis as some pigmy whose body could be trussed in 
 an eel-skin. It is a fact that some of the world's most pro- 
 digious workers have been borne about in very frail taber- 
 nacles. Petrarch was so diseased that he fell in a fainting 
 fit whenever his mind was overloaded. Julius Csesar could 
 not plan a battle without sufl;ering in the same manner. 
 Cowper's body was fragile, while his spirit was pure essence. 
 Nursed and cared for by Mrs. Unwin, " as though he were 
 her consumptive boy," subject to depressions of melancholy, 
 and, at times, of total aberration ; he, nevertheless, wrote 
 largely, gave us the purest poetry of his century, and 
 re-gave to England the standard ^•erse. Bonaparte, who 
 performed such herculean feats of endurance, both physically 
 
42 THE GENIUS OP INDUSTRY. 
 
 and mentally, half-killing his four secretaries, performing the 
 labors of a literary man and a business man, and in the 
 saddle eighteen hours out of twenty-four, had a chronic dis- 
 ease of the stomach, and had to watch his digestion as 
 keenly as Pascal, that poor waif of physical life who 
 weighed his morsels of bread, and balanced his bit of trout 
 in an apothecary's scales. 
 
 It took all the knowledge of art and medicine to hold the 
 flickering flame of life in the breast of William III; and 
 Epictetus was, he tells us, " a cripple and a beggar." Was 
 not Nelson little and lame? Yet he was the hero of Trafal- 
 gar. Was not Byron club-footed, weakl}-, and of a morbid 
 temperament.^ Yet "he stooped to touch the loftiest 
 thought." And here is Thomas DeQuincey, " this fragile 
 and unsubstantial figure — this dagger of lath — this ghostly 
 body resting on a pair of immaterial legs," possessing "one 
 of the most potent and original spirits that ever dwelt in a 
 tenement of clay." Look at that literary leviathan, Samuel 
 Johnson, so feeble and delicate, as a child, that his mother 
 carried him on a pillow, and his physician ' never knew 
 another raised with such difficulty " — his whole body was 
 honey-combed with scrofulous sores, his head was drawn to 
 one side, his right cheek eaten almost off, and his bod}' 
 twisted into unsightly contortions— suffering horrors from a 
 constitutional depression that kept him " mad half his life, 
 or at feast not sober " — sitting in his chair with one arm 
 thrown over its back, his legs doubled up under him, he 
 looked like a cross between the hunchback and kangaroo. 
 He would sit swaying his ungainly figure to and fro, with 
 his languid eyes half shut, chanting some incoherent ditty 
 for hours. Yet where is the man whose pen has traced 
 more pages, or given vent to grander thoughts.? 
 
PHYSICAL CULTURE. 43 
 
 Notwithstanding the profound results attained by these, 
 and man}' others, who have dwelt in unsubstantial bodies, 
 the verdict must be rendered in favor of a vigorous consti- 
 tution. These men worked against fearful odds, and only 
 their unusual endowments permitted them to accomplish 
 what they did. Using INIacaulay, with some additions, 
 Mathews says: "Rarely does the world behold such a 
 spectacle as that presented in 1693, at Neerwinden, in the 
 Netherlands, when, among the one hundred and twenty 
 thousand soldiers who were marshaled under the banners 
 of all Europe, the two feeblest in body were the hunch- 
 backed dwarf who urged on the fiery onset of France and 
 the asthmatic skeleton who covered the slow retreat of 
 England." 
 
 Again, the battles of the world have not all been won by 
 the heavy men. It must be confessed that the giant frames 
 have not held a large share of the great souls. Grant is of 
 very medium height. Nelson couldn't see over a sailor's 
 shoulder, and Bonaparte was known as the " Little Cor- 
 poral." Louis XIV, the Grand JMonarque., was unable to 
 tip six feet, even in his high heels and feathers, while our 
 own Douglas was distinguished as the ''Little Giant." 
 Children some times ask the size of Alexander, and we are 
 all half disposed to believe him a physical Titan, but history 
 records him as one of the smallest men in his army. It was 
 not stature that made Frederick the Great the fierce and 
 awful conqueror he was, but the vast energies pent up in 
 his little clay tenement. 
 
 The elder Pitt was not large, and Burke was small; and 
 when Warren Hastings (who gave England an empire) 
 advanced to the bar, bent his knee, and kissed the scepter 
 of the realm in the great hall of William Rufus, preparatory 
 
44: THE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 to being tried on the charge of " exercising tyranny over 
 the lord of the holy city of Benares, and over the ladies of 
 the princely house of Oude," the smallest man in all the 
 eminent array was he vv^hose genius and crimes had con- 
 voked the august gathering. 
 
 These small-bodied, or feeble-bodied, men often have 
 what the physical giants do not always possess — working 
 capacity. A man may be in frame a Heenan, and never be 
 able to endure a week's severe toil. The length of the 
 arms, the avoirdupois, or the ability to lift Dr. Winship's 
 load, is no sure sign of an enduring constitution. Some of 
 the rarest and most potent essences ot nature have been 
 inclosed in strange and unsightly caskets, but every morn- 
 ing they have borrowed a fresh bit of life, and have per- 
 formed the work of two men's lives, long after the Heenans 
 and Winships were in their graves. There was somehow 
 a wonderful potenc}' for work in Socrates, as he stood in 
 his daj'-long trance of thought, and in the macerated and 
 visionary Luther in his Augustinian cell. 
 
 In Froissart's chivalrous and romantic account of the 
 delivery of France from the English invaders, only the hand 
 of the sinewy Bertrand du Guesclin is to be seen; but the 
 real spring of all was the head of the feeble invalid who 
 conquered the two Edwards. It has been observed by a 
 thoughtful writer that " a table would not be called strong 
 if two of its legs were cracked and several of its joints loose, 
 however tough might be its materials, and however good 
 its original workmanship. But if the table showed a power 
 of holding together and recovering itself, notwithstanding 
 every sort of rough usage, it might well be called strong, 
 though it was ultimately broken up; and its strength might 
 not unnaturally be measured by the quantity of ill-usage 
 
PUYSICAL CULTURE. 45 
 
 which it survived. It is precisely in this power of self- 
 repair that the difference between a body and a mere 
 machine resides. The difficulty of saying what is meant by 
 physical strength is in the difficulty of distinguishing 
 between the mechanical and what, for want of a better 
 word, must be called the vital powers of the body. Look 
 upon the body as a machine, and the broken arm, the tub- 
 ercles in the lungs, or the cancer in the liver, prevent you 
 from calling it strong; but, if it goes on acting for years, 
 and wonderfully recovering itself again and again from the 
 catastrophe which these defects tend to produce, there must 
 be a strong something somewhere." 
 
 It is this self-restoring quality one wants. It is worth 
 more than the heirloom of longevity or the muscle of Spar- 
 tacus. Without a constitution that can repair its own 
 waste and wear, one is in a sorry plight for the friction and 
 break-neck encounters of life. The man who encourages a 
 good physique is the one who comes the nearest giving 
 nature all she asks to suppl}' the drain upon the sj-stem; and 
 his chances for standing up against hardships and pulling 
 through fatiguing exertions safely are very much superior 
 to those of the man with the frail body. However, over- 
 work, mental or physical, when stretched beyond the limits 
 of the self-recuperative powers, will leave the most vigorous 
 man a crazy constitution for the rest of his days. Men 
 sometimes talk of over-work and under-rest — as though 
 one might over- work safely if he would over-rest as much. 
 In the matter of mere exhaustion, rest will restore; but, 
 where the system is unduly taxed — pressed beyond the 
 limits of its abilities — there is no elixir of life in rest. Every 
 man has about so much vital force, and when that is spent, 
 he is undone. 
 
46 THE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 I close this chapter by citing a vigorous and able sum- 
 mary of the question, which recently appeared in the 
 editorial columns of the London Times: 
 
 " There is perhaps no man living, of whom more feats ot 
 labor and triumphs over the frail physique of humanity are 
 recorded, than of Lord Brougham. Legends of this sort 
 have gathered round him like a Hercules. There is a 
 legend that he once worked six continuous days — /, e., one 
 hundred and forty-four hours — without sleep ; that he then 
 rushed down to his country lodgings, slept all Saturday 
 night, all Sunday, all Sunday night, and was waked by his 
 valet on Monday morning, to resume the responsibilities ot 
 life and commence the work of the next week. A man 
 must, of course, have a superhuman constitution who can 
 do, we will not say this particular feat, which is perhaps 
 mythical, but feats of this class, and probably the greatness 
 of our great men is quite as much a bodily affair as a men- 
 tal one. Nature has presented them not only with extra- 
 ordinary minds, but — what has quite as much to do with 
 the matter — with wonderful bodies. What can a man do 
 without a constitution — a working constitution.'' He is laid 
 on the shelf from the day he is born. For him no munifi- 
 cent destiny reserves the Great Seal, or the Rolls, or the 
 Chiefjusticeship, or the leadership of the House of Com- 
 mons, the Treasury, or the Admiralty, or the Horse Guards, 
 the Home Office, or the Colonies. The Church may pro- 
 mote him, for it does not signify to the Church whether a 
 man does his work or not, but the State will have nothing 
 to do with the poor, constitutionless wretch. He will not 
 rise higher than a Recordership or a Poor Law Board. ' But,' 
 somebody will ask, ' has that pale, lean man, with a face 
 like parchment, and nothing on his bones, a constitution.''' 
 
rnrsicAL culture. 47 
 
 Yes, he has — he has a working constitution, and a ten-times 
 better one than you, my good friend, with your ruddy face 
 and strong, muscular frame. You look, indeed the very 
 picture of health, but you have, in reality, only a sporting 
 constitution, not a working- one. You do very well for the 
 open air, and get on tolerably well, with fine, healthy exer- 
 cise and no strain on your brain. But try close air for a 
 week — try confinement, with heaps of confused papers and 
 books of reference, blue books, or law books, or dispatches 
 to get through, and therefrom extract liquid and transparent 
 results, and you will find yourself knocked up and fainting, 
 when the pale, lean man is— if not as fresh as a daisy, which 
 he never is, being of the perpetually cadaverous kind — at 
 least as unatTected as a bit of leather, and not showing the 
 smallest sign of giving way. There are two sorts of good 
 constitutions — good idle constitutions, and good working 
 ones. When nature makes a great man, she presents him 
 with the latter gift. Not that we wish to deprive our great 
 men of their merit. A man must make one or two experi- 
 ments before he finds out his constitution. A man of spirit 
 and mettle makes the experiment, tries himself and runs the 
 risk, as a soldier does on the field. The battle of life and 
 death is often fought as really in chambers or in an office as 
 it is on the field. A soul is required to make use of the 
 body, but a great man must have a body as well as a soul 
 to work with. Charles Buller, Sir William Molesworth, 
 and others, are instances of men whose bodies refused to 
 support their souls, and were therefore obliged to give up the 
 prize when they had just reached it. And how many hun- 
 dreds, or thousands — if one did but know them — perish in 
 an earlier stage, before they have made any way at all, sim- 
 ply because, though they had splendid minds, they had very 
 
48 THE GENIUS OP INDUtSTRT. 
 
 poor bodies ! Let our lean, cadaverous friend, then, when 
 the laurel surmounts his knotty, parchment face, thank 
 Heaven for his body, which, he may depend upon it, is 
 almost as great a treasure as his soul. Nature may not 
 have made him a handsome man, but what does this signify? 
 She has made him a strong one." 
 
I or Tiifto* 
 
 '^^^iT^ 
 
j;€<)j^<)tiy <)Y IW^- 
 
 Think'st thou existence doth depend on time? 
 It doth ; but actions are our epochs : mine 
 Have made my days and nights imperishable, 
 Endless, and all alike. 
 
 — Byron; Man/red. 
 
 Dost thou love life? then do not squander time, for that is the stuff life 
 is made of. — Franklin. 
 
of TI^ 
 
 m}omj or "pro^. 
 
 HE lame and weakly little Nelson was wont to call 
 time his estate. He considered it inheritance 
 enough, and thought if its moments were properly 
 husbanded he could gain all needed riches. " I owe all my 
 success in life," he once said, " to having been always a 
 quarter of an hour before my time." Some take no 
 thought of the value of time until they have come to its 
 close. The hours are allowed to tlow by unemployed, and 
 then, when life is fast waning, they bethink themselves of 
 the duty of making a wiser use of it. But habits of listless- 
 ness and idleness, once confirmed, are not easily thrown off, 
 and the man who permits the seed-time of his years to pass 
 unsown, can only in the autumn of his life reap a harvest of 
 remorse and poverty. Lost wealth may be replaced by 
 industry, lost knowledge by study, lost health by temper- 
 ance or medicine; but lost time is gone forever. 
 
 The man who is habituall}^ behind time is habitually 
 behind success. An unpunctual man never accomplishes 
 what he desires to; he is systematically late; he arrives at 
 his appointment after time; he gets to the depot just as the 
 train has started; posts his letter one minute after the box 
 
52 THE OEA^IUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 has closed; and old age finds him just as he has turned a 
 new leaf and resolved thereafter to be punctual. Lord 
 Chesterfield wittily said of the Duke of Newcastle: "His 
 Grace loses an hour in the morning, and is looking for it all 
 the rest of the day." It is a matter of true conscientious- 
 ness to be on time with every duty. 
 
 Successful military men have all been noted for their 
 regard of time. General Grant was never known to get 
 out of patience with an officer unless he was behind time. 
 Even the quiet and slow Washington said to a late secre- 
 tary, who laid the blame upon his watch: " You must get 
 another watch, or I another secretar}-." The fate of an 
 army, and sometimes of a nation, has hung on the move- 
 ments of an hour. Bonaparte once felt that the morrow's 
 battle hung on utter darkness in his camp at nine o'clock, 
 so that the enemy would not suspect any preparations for 
 the coming contest. When the bugle sounded nine, the 
 little Corsican, with that e3'e which must see to ever}- 
 detail, blew out his candle over an important order half 
 written, and, stepping to his door, peered into the darkness 
 for obedience. He saw one tent with a light. He hurried 
 to it, entered unannounced, and found a brave officer 
 penning a last sentence to his wife. The delinquent made 
 a confused explanation of the circumstance. Bonaparte 
 heard him in sorrow; but obedience was of more value to 
 France than love. " Add a postscript," commanded the 
 imperial voice, " and say: ' I die at sunrise for disobedience 
 of orders.' " 
 
 Not one of all the stereotyped excuses for failure is called 
 so often to men's lips as the lack of time. Men feeling the 
 movings of aspiration to do something in the world worthy 
 of themselves, long to place their feet in the tracks of a 
 
ECONOMY OF TIME. 53 
 
 Xavier or Humboldt; but, alas! for want of education or 
 wealth, they are not able to do so. They read how Adam 
 Clarke and Davy toiled from ignorance up to the very 
 summit of knowledge and ability to help their fellows; but 
 to earn a living for a wife and one child takes them from 
 seven until six, and every waking moment is so fully 
 engrossed that they have no time to read and study. Hun- 
 dreds of men are plodding through life without a book in 
 their house, or newspaper, or ever hearing a lecture, 
 because they have no time for such things. 
 
 These are the men who never get above the wealth or the 
 wages with which they started in life. They are the men 
 who make incendiary speeches in that valuable organiza- 
 tion, " The Workingmen's Union," and lead mobs to fire 
 cities and depredate on capital. They put their blind, 
 insensate muscle against the progress of to-day, that 
 demands muscle mixed with brains. Rest and recreation 
 are necessar}' to the best use of our powers. A steam 
 engine must rest, and even a Great Eastern occasionally 
 goes into dock to be touched up during a resting-spell. The 
 men who are so near-sighted that they can see no success 
 except in straightforward, unremitting work, will only have 
 their labor for their pains, for the shrewd, cultured fellows, 
 who have expanded their wits and enlarged their mental 
 muscle by the recreation of study and society, will bear 
 down on them sooner or later, and get away with their 
 rusty savings. 
 
 Select your men from the farm or office who have made 
 the most money and done the most good — the men who 
 carry the business of half a dozen men on their shoulders, 
 who have hundreds of employes; who do not have an idle 
 day once in a year; men who, their friends and physicians 
 
54 TUB GENIUS OF INLUSTBT. 
 
 sa}', are going to kill themselves at business, and yet they 
 smile and work on, and die vigorous at eighty. These are 
 the men who tind time to attend Relief Societies ; who have 
 leisure to hear political speeches and scientific lectures ; who 
 read the newspapers; who have large libraries, every book 
 of which they can, tell you something about; who were 
 never so busy but they could stop and chat pleasantly with 
 a friend for five minutes. Two of the wealthiest merchants 
 of Chicago, driving a business of millions, are never absent 
 from prayer-meeting, or an official meeting of their clubs or 
 lodges. 
 
 The capacity to do is largely measured by what is being 
 done. One man requires a whole day to saw a cord of 
 wood, and positively has no time for any thing else; another 
 will saw and split it in a da}', will whistle at his work, brush 
 himself up after supper, and read an hour. In some fami- 
 lies where there are but two, the wife is always behind with 
 her work; in others the woman with six children will do 
 all her work, be dressed up in the afternoon, read, call, and 
 have plenty of time for any thing that demands extra care. 
 The reason is these people are in the habit of doing. Their 
 blood finds no stagnating corners in all their systems. 
 Their activit}' drives it from the lurking places, and sends 
 it whirling on its appointed way. The whole forces of 
 their organism are aroused; every muscle is put into action; 
 their conceptions become far-reaching and acute; the}- are 
 able to utilize every square inch of power within them. 
 Thus, they have an accelerated capacity for execution. 
 Then, there is a momentum in the active man which, of 
 itself, almost carries him to his mark, just as a little steam 
 on the driving-piston will keep the train agoing, when a 
 strong blast was necessary to give it a start. 
 
ECONOMY OF TIME. 55 
 
 The great works of the world have not been wrought 
 by sudden spurts of application. True, there are times 
 when Dexter makes a grand burst of speed; and so every 
 man finds himself occasionalh' pushing his work with won- 
 drous facilit}'. And he ought to make the very best of 
 these unexplainable inspirations. But they are not to be 
 relied on. Persistent effort is the onl}' thing to be depended 
 on, and a genius for that is the very best kind of genius. 
 
 Astor laid the foundation for his millions by hoarding 
 the cents. So men like Ilerschel and Faraday have used 
 their odd moments in reading or experimenting and then 
 hurried to their work with the result safely deposited in the 
 bank of memory. B}' these gradual and almost unappreci- 
 able accretions, through long years have they come to pos- 
 sess the knowledge and wisdom which enabled them to bless 
 the world; while others who spent the same moments in 
 careless talk, or in idle lounging, have been so hurried by 
 their business that they have found it impossible to devote 
 thirty minutes a day to self-culture. 
 
 Many successful men have supported themselves during 
 their college course by sawing wood, or other manual labor 
 in the fragments of their time. Hugh Miller used to say 
 that it puzzled him to know what his occupation really was; 
 for while his study gave his brain a living, his work in the 
 quarry furnished his body a living. It matters but little 
 from which source the living comes. But it is clear that if 
 one can use the remnants of each day to advantage, what 
 is he not able to accomplish even in them! Will not a 
 man, by economizing every spare moment of a day, be 
 able to obtain greater results at the end of ten years in his 
 business than he could attain without culture.^ Was not 
 the wealth and lasting fame of Sir Humphre)' Davy 
 
66 THE OENIUS OP INDUSTRY. 
 
 and Sir Walter Scott built out of the use of their spare 
 moments? 
 
 Because it will take a great while to produce some good 
 result, and you can not give 3-ourself to it in consecutive 
 hours, shall you therefore give it up altogether? Then rather 
 be thankful that you are able in the parings of time to do 
 some useful thing. The ver}* thought that the bits of the 
 mornings, noons, and evenings, when freed from the harness, 
 are actually yours — that you are monarch over moments, 
 brief though your reign may be — should inspire you with 
 the determination to use them in a kingly way. William 
 Cullen Bryant was long tied to the onerous duties of 
 the editorial chair, but he so fiilly appreciated the value 
 of the swiftl3'-flying moments of life, that, in those slim 
 crevices of time available to a city editor, he wrote a 
 large volume of poetr}-, and his name will be borne down 
 " the flood of years " by the labors of those spare moments. 
 If the broken fragments of time are used more earnestly 
 because of their brevit}' the}' will be the one investment of 
 life that will yield a compound interest in old age. Young 
 spoke a solemn truth when he said : 
 
 "Youth is not rich in time; it maybe poor; 
 Part with it as with money, sparingly; pay 
 No moment but in purchase of its worth ; 
 And what it's worth, ask death-beds; they can tell ! " 
 
 Time is free alike to all men. The con-\-ict in the prison, 
 the free laborer of the land, and the millionaire have frag- 
 ments of time at their disposal; and he who uses them to 
 the best results is most a man. 
 
 " The greatest schemes that human wit can forge, 
 Or bold ambition dares to put in practice, 
 Depend upon our husbanding a moment." 
 
ECONOMY OF TIME. 57 
 
 That young English officer who was appointed to a post 
 in India gave prophecy of his future self, when the Ministry 
 inquired, "When will j'ou be ready to start?" by answer- 
 ing, "To-morrow morning." He afterward became Gov- 
 ernor-General of India. 
 
 There is occasionall}' a day when, for some cause, you 
 are off duty. Make those days like " apples of gold in 
 pictures of silver." Economize with tenfold care such days, 
 and in a little while you will come to know the wealth of 
 time. A few years ago the roof of the United States Mint, 
 at Philadelphia, was carefully swept, every crevice whisped 
 with a feather, and the broom and slippers of the sweeper 
 dusted. The golden dust was coined, and the mint had a 
 more profitable day than for many months previous. In 
 every business the wheels once in a while clog, and there 
 must be a suspension of work for a half day or more; then 
 come the holidays. You have been letting ideas fall on 
 your mind for weeks, in a confused sort of way; now is 
 your time to gather them up and ticket them away. Or a 
 choice book has been laid aside because it demanded con- 
 secutive reading; now is the time to put in fifteen hours of 
 solid study. Depend upon it, this is the very best of recre- 
 ation, and every golden hour thus coined will be clear profit. 
 There is more to be gained in sweeping the dusty mint of 
 the mind than in whisping any other treasury roof in the 
 world. 
 
 Few persons can afford to be idle, and those few are 
 irregular and spasmodic at every thing they do. Such 
 " heaven-bom geniuses " are a law unto themselves, and 
 must only be expected to work when the spirit moves them. 
 They know no sj'stem, and when they came down from 
 heaven, they forgot her first law. It seems to be one mark 
 
58 THE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 of the man we call a genius to be immethodical. Take 
 Coleridge for illustration. " He passed his whole life out at 
 elbows, physically and niorall}'." He dawdled whole weeks 
 away, and never found time to finish a single important 
 work. He would lie in bed until ten, when he had a busi- 
 ness engagement at nine. He would let a friend keep him 
 laughing and talking till past midnight, when that very day 
 the printers had stopped work because the last pages of his 
 essay were not }-et written. He could not even earn money 
 enough to support his family. Southey and other friends 
 took their hard-earned dollars to keep the wolf from his 
 door, while he stalked over the country discoursing his trans- 
 cendental philosophy. 
 
 One of the very best ways of economizing time is to work 
 by rule. A vast deal more can be accomplished in that 
 way than by fitful efforts, Jiowever great. Many men work 
 by moods, and are run by gush, who have no genius for that 
 way of doing. It is only a subterfuge in which their indo- 
 lence hides to keep conscience -quiet, while they laze away 
 time. Give me a man who delivers every stroke by the 
 tick of the clock, and I will have a man who knows what he 
 can do, and who can do a great deal. It is strange so wise 
 an old Gascon as Montaigne, should say that " There is no 
 course of life so weak as that which is carried on by rule 
 and discipline; " and stranger still that so acute an observer 
 as Prof. Mathews should seem to agree with him. Now, I 
 had as lief say that order and discipline were the weakness 
 of an army, as to say that they were the weakness of a 
 life. 
 
 It is not necessar}' for a methodical man to pare his rule- 
 path into "a razor'^s edge to -walk ony Every good thing 
 of the kind may be overdone, and become puritanical. But 
 
ECONOMY OF TIME. 59 
 
 if one will put his rules within the pale of common sense, it 
 will never become necessary " to cross his o-wn rules " to 
 keep from growing faint and rusty. There are some men 
 so methodical they will not use a compound word, so precise 
 they weigh the brown bread and count the beans they eat; 
 others so unobserving they never know whether their wives 
 wear silk or linsey; so irregular in their habits they are as 
 likely to start to their day's work at seven in the evening as 
 at seven in the morning. 
 
 After all, it remains true that much of man's success 
 depends upon his ability to systematize work, and so arrange 
 it that each class of labor will take its place in such a way 
 as to prove recreative. 
 
 It is well for one to realize that Hfe is short, but he must 
 also feel that it is long enough for every necessary labor. 
 Men loiter away their leisure hours, berating fate because 
 she has given them no opportunity to become educated. 
 Yet such a man as Hugh Miller, with only the rinds of the 
 day at his command, found them long enough to acquire the 
 knowledge on which he built a lasting fame. The man 
 who will undertake nothing for fear of dying next year, had 
 as well order a coffin for his manhood. You must plan to 
 live fifty years. The niches of the days put in studiously 
 for half that time will make you a profound scholar in any 
 ordinary branch of learning. Humboldt did not shiver on 
 the brink of giant enterprises when he was eighty years 
 old. 
 
 If the spare moments of one year are husbanded aright, 
 you will never again complain of the lack of time. Time is 
 a secondary consideration. As Robert Hall used to say of 
 early rising, that .the real question was not what time you 
 get up, but what do }"ou do when j'ou get up? So, while 
 
60 TEE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 the length of time is of some consequence, the more import- 
 ant question is, How do 3-ou improve your time? Many of 
 our greatest men may thank heaven for making the days 
 short and their business pursuits long, so that they have 
 been compelled to dive for a ten minutes' read, like a robin 
 for a worm. The appreciation of the brevit}' of the oppor- 
 tunity made them use the moments as precious jewels. 
 After Buffbn had saved the hour between six and seven in 
 the morning for one year, in writing his history, no money 
 could have induced him to return to his old habit of spend- 
 ing it in snoring. To that hour he owed the three ablest 
 \oluiTies of that noble work which established his fame. 
 
 It is wonderful what results have been achieved in a few 
 hours stolen froin a busy life. It is related of a German 
 critic that he could repeat the entire Iliad in Greek with 
 scarcely an error. This man did not have years, nor even 
 months, nor weeks. Never a single day was his own, for 
 he was a ph3-sician whose practice drove him " day and 
 night ; " but as he drove from one patient to another, he 
 snatched the unemplo3'ed moment to commit a line or two, 
 and thus in an incredibly short space of time to people who 
 are hunting for leisure,. his brain stereot}ped the immortal 
 verses that the old bard of Scio once needed to peddle on 
 the shores of Greece for bread and hone}'. 
 
 Sir Walter Scott was a government officer, and attended 
 to his duties with rigorous exactness; but write he must, 
 and all his great novels were composed before breakfast. 
 Did not Albert Barnes write commentaries, that have 
 reached a sale of over a million copies, during the same 
 hours? Jean Paul Richter carried his note-book with him 
 wherever he went, and when an idea flashed upon him in 
 conversation, he noted it down at once, and laid it away 
 
ECONOMY OF TIME 61 
 
 for development at the proper time. Did not George 
 Stephenson wrest hours from needed repose, to experiment 
 in and revolutionize the commerce of the nations by it? 
 Did not Bonaparte forego the pleasures of society that he 
 might devote himself to the science of war, and by it tri- 
 umph over plebeian blood, elevating himself to the lonely 
 sublimity of the " Man of Destiny? " 
 
 When an English lord had remained over night at 
 Marshfield, he remarked to Mr. Webster, the next morning 
 at breakfast, that he did not want their proposed jaunt to 
 interfere with his rules of study. " Not at all," replied Mr. 
 Webster; " I rise at five, and do all my stud3-ing before 
 breakfast, and then I am ready, as the case may be, for 
 pleasure or duty." 
 
 We do not recominend such unrelaxing use of time as 
 will over-strain body or mind. This is as exhausting in its 
 results as over-leisure. Brain-workers sometimes while 
 away an hour a day, to the visible benefit of their thinking 
 powers. This kind of idling becomes a duty to men in deli- 
 cate health. They are compelled to have, like Pascal and 
 Pope, "recuperative hours." Their frail tenements of cla}^ 
 need the most perfect rest, and much of it. To the 
 achievement of their great works, their resting spells were 
 the wisest economy of time. Mental or physical workers 
 never lose any time by an occasional evening in society. 
 After such intermissions they return to work refreshed and 
 invigorated. They have broken up the monotony of life 
 for a time, and go back to work with a better circulation of 
 blood. No man ever gained time by cheating sleep, or at 
 the sacrifice of muscle or brain tissue. Robust people may 
 stand it for years, and perform great works; but by and by 
 it tells. Suppose they do achieve very important results in 
 
62 TUB GESIUS OF INDUSTBT. 
 
 the overshadowing vastness of their working hours, is it not 
 better to husband time, and thereby stimulate vigor, so as 
 to enhance the value of results, and, moreover, add length 
 of days and happiness to their existence? 
 
 It is a very poor sort of economy that exhausts the last 
 ounce of vital fluid in this day's work, so that you must lie 
 in bed to-morrow, wrapped in a warming-sheet, swilling 
 beef-tea and vitalized phosphates, trying to patch up your 
 wasted strength. Since that weird little bit of sallow flesh, 
 DeQuincc}', wrote his " Confessions," scores of literary 
 hopefuls have taken opium and sat up until four o'clock in 
 the morning, thinking that they too might roar like the 
 lion; but sour stomachs, and red eyes, and heavy heads are 
 about the only things they could record as the legitimate 
 results of the trial. 
 
 The above matters of caution are needed by but few. 
 The majority of men are more likely to rust out than to 
 wear out. When men break down from over-work, it is 
 commonly from want of duly ordering their lives, and 
 neglect of the ordinary conditions of physical health. Hard 
 work, steadily and regularly carried on, seldom hurts any 
 one. So organize your labors that you will turn from one 
 toil to another with alacrity and zest. If hours of entire 
 relief from manual labor and study are necessary, so order 
 them that, with Buflbn, even your leisure shall be instruct- 
 ive. Length o{ years is no proper test of length of h'fe. A 
 man's life is measured by what he does in it. No matter 
 how long an idle man lives, he only vegetates. 
 
' ^ "^^^^^ 
 
 k 
 
 «4 ■ ^^^ fh4\. 
 
 .s^. 
 
J.^€f ^y\J^5 PJ^^q-Cf. 
 
 It is better to be born lucky than wise. — English. 
 
 Pitch the lucky man into the Nile and he will come up with a fish in his 
 mouth — German. 
 
 A great deal that is called luck consists in good managemen*. 
 
 Burden not the back of Aries, Leo, or Taurus with thy faults; nor make 
 Saturn, Mars, or Venus guilty of thy follies. — Sir Thomas Bro-dj/ie. 
 
. OW much of a man's success is due to favorable 
 circumstances, is a difficult matter to define. The 
 majority of those great results attributed to luck, 
 have come to be recognized as nothing more than oppor- 
 tunities well improved. The falling of the apple at New- 
 ton's feet was a favorable circumstance. But apples had 
 fallen at the feet of a thousand men before. The difficulty 
 was, not one of this thousand had been devoting years of 
 patient study to the subject of gravitation. But Newton's 
 mind was prepared, and the circumstance flashed upon him 
 a. discovery already germinating in his brain. 
 
 Bonaparte, doubtless, owed, in some degree, his upward 
 start to favorable circumstances. The same circumstances 
 had been thrown around a multitude of men during the 
 long months of the Reign of Terror; but not another man 
 in all the nation had been studying military science and the 
 passions of men as he had been studying them. Seized and 
 thrown into prison at Marseilles, an officer entered his room 
 one night, a couple of hours after midnight, to inform him 
 of his release. He found him dressed and seated at his 
 table, with maps, books and charts spread out before him. 
 
66 THE OENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 '' What! " inquired tlie officer, " are you not in bed yet? " 
 "In bed! " Bonaparte replied; " I have had my sleep, and 
 am already risen." 
 
 When the Convention said, "Defend us from the mob,"' 
 it was the falling of an apple at Newton's feet — lightning 
 playing down Franklin's kite-string — fortune flowing into 
 previously cut channels. 
 
 To clearly comprehend Napoleon's marked career, one 
 must go back to those times when France, without a leader, 
 was the football of every gamester. 
 
 The National Convention was in the utmost trepidation ; 
 for, in those da3's of anarchy, blood flowed like water, and 
 life had no sacredness in Paris. It was not a mob of a few 
 hundred straggling men and boys, who, with hootings, were 
 to surround their hall and break their windows, but a form- 
 idable army of forty thousand men, in battle array, with 
 artillery and muskets, headed b}' veteran generals who had 
 fought the battles of the old monarch)-, and who, with 
 gleaming banners and trumpet tones, were marching down 
 from all quarters of the city upon the Tuileries, prepared 
 to sack its halls and deluge Paris in blood. The Reign of 
 Terror was raging in unabated fury. 
 
 Bonaparte saw Menou march, to quell the insurrection, 
 and turn and flee before their insane yells like a cowardly 
 poltroon. He ran through the streets to the Tuileries, and, 
 ascending the gallery where the Convention was assembled, 
 contemplated, with a calm eye and a heart apparently 
 unagitated, the scene of consternation there. It was now 
 eleven o'clock at night, and the doom of the Convention 
 seemed sealed. In the utmost alarm, Menou was dismissed. 
 But who could do better.'' Successful resistance seemed 
 impossible, and to be unsuccessful was certain death. Bar- 
 
LUCK AND PLUCK. 67 
 
 ras arose amid the awful stillness of the chamber. " I 
 know the man who can defend us," he nervously exclaimed. 
 " It is a young Corsican officer, Napoleon Bonaparte, whose 
 military abilities I witnessed at Toulon. He is a man that 
 will not stand upon ceremony." 
 
 Barras called him down from the gallery. The Conven- 
 tion expected to see a man of soldierly bearing, brusque and 
 imperious. To their surprise, there appeared before them 
 a small, slender, pale-faced, smooth-cheeked young man, 
 apparently about eighteen years of age. The President 
 said, " Are you willing to undertake the defense of the Con- 
 vention.''" "Yes! "was the laconic reply. After a mo- 
 ment's hesitation the President continued, " Are you aware 
 of the magnitude of the -undertaking.? " Bonaparte fixed 
 that eagle glance upon him, which few could meet and not 
 quail before, and replied, " Perfectly; and I am in the habit 
 of accomplishing that which I undertake." He then added, 
 " I must be entirely untrammeled by any orders from the 
 Convention. 
 
 This appointment threw open to Napoleon Bonaparte the 
 gate to empire and glory. As the light of morning dawned 
 upon the city, the Tuileries presented the aspect of an 
 intrenched camp. Guns were posted so as to sweep every 
 avenue of approach to the capital. The armed hosts, in 
 black masses surged down the narrow streets of the city. 
 The members in their seats, in silence and awe, awaited the 
 fearful assault, upon the issue of which their lives depended. 
 Five thousand troops stood against forty thousand. Napo- 
 leon, pale and silent, charged his guns to the muzzle, and 
 calmly surveyed the advancing columns, resolved that the 
 responsibility of the first blow should fall upon his assailants, 
 and that he would take the responsibility of the second. 
 
68 THE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 He waited not long. A moment more, and the rushing- 
 hosts hurled a volley of bullets at the handful of defenders. 
 It was the signal for an instantaneous discharge, sanguinary 
 and merciless, from every battery. Explosion followed 
 explosion in quick succession, and a perfect storm of 
 grape-shot swept the thronged streets. The pavements 
 -were covered with the mangled and the dead. The col- 
 umns wavered — the storm still continued; they turned — the 
 storm still raged unabated; thej' fled in utter dismay in 
 every direction — the storm still pursued them. Then 
 Napoleon commanded his little division to follow the 
 fugitives. As the thunder of their heavy guns reverberated 
 along the streets, the insurgents fled in ever}' direction, and 
 in an hour the foe was nowhere to be found. Napoleon 
 had saved the Convention and established the new govern- 
 ment of France. And now, as unmoved as if no event of 
 importance had occurred, he re-entered the Tuileries. 
 
 He had passed that " gate," and was entering into his 
 possessions. It was a lucky thing for him when he was 
 given supreme command of the Convention's army, and so 
 it was for Menou when he was given command. But 
 Napoleon was equal to his luck, and went to a throne; 
 Menou added cowardice to his luck, and went down in 
 disgrace. 
 
 There is no lack of fortune; it is scattered plentifully 
 along every man's path; it is thrown into men's faces, as 
 opportunity was thrust upon Menou; but the majority of 
 men, unlike Napoleon, never see their chance and add 
 pluck. 
 
 Ver}' few men ever fail on account of a lack of ability, if 
 the world is to accept their story. They will sometimes 
 grant that they have weak eyes, or a sour stomach, or a 
 
LUCK AND PLUCK. 69 
 
 torpid liver; but who ever heard a man confess that he was 
 a poor logician, or was not able to comprehend the finest 
 metaphysical point, or had "a weak head?" We meet 
 men who are forever talking about their frail bodies, but 
 never knew one to discourse on the frailty of his mind. If 
 he can't split as many rails in a day as his neighbor, it is 
 because he is not as strong. If he fails to clear as many 
 dollars this }'ear as that neighbor, it is not because his mind 
 is not as good — not that ; it is because he has had bad luck 
 
 There is not, in the whole vocabular}' of moral, social and 
 business bankrupts a single failure but it is laid at the door 
 of bad luck. INIen never find themselves to blame for their 
 disasters. Every one thinks himself a little pope, and that 
 all the rest of mortality are fallible. Thoughtlessness, neg' 
 ligence, recklessness, fast horses, big dinners, frequent 
 ,jaunts from home, leaving one's business to indifferent 
 clerks, in^•oicing■ but seldom, and hence knowing little about 
 the outlays — these are matters seldom recognized as having 
 much influence on the Christmas balance-sheet. Ultimate 
 failure, in such instances, is cast upon the side of loss as a 
 matter of luck. Bad luck is a treaty that every failure has 
 gotten up with himself : whether he be pickpocket or poli- 
 tician, some mediocre man of big hopes and no grit, or a 
 broken down presidential candidate, he slinks behind this 
 barricade at every repulse, feeling that he would have suc- 
 ceeded if luck had not turned against him. 
 
 Unfavorable circumstances sometimes surround men, and 
 no matter how heroically the)' strive against their fate, the 
 relentless monster will not quit until their every prospect is 
 ruined. Do not at such a time go to saying, 
 
 " There's a divinity that shapes our ends, 
 Rough hew them how we will." 
 
70 THE GENIUS OP INDUSTRT. 
 
 A just and righteous Providence could not, in the very 
 nature of eternal fitness, lash you to destiny with a hang- 
 man's w^hip. You may get into the vise of circumstances, 
 and have the last dollar squeezed out, and be w^holly help- 
 less. Daniel Drew had been a successful speculator for 
 many years. A combination of events, over which he could 
 exercise no control, enveloped him, and the old veteran went 
 to the wall, divorced of every dollar. Scipio hurled his 
 legions against the solid squares of Hannibal, that had stood 
 invincible through many battles, and all the fine maneuvers, 
 all the shrewd deploys, all the impetuous charges, all the 
 prestige of a hundred cloudless victories could not sa^■e the 
 Carthaginian. His cohorts, baffled and beaten, fled in utter 
 rout, and left Scipio the victor. Twenty million throats 
 yelled themselves hoarse for Robespierre. The same voices 
 as recklessly cried, " To the guillotine;" and his head rolled 
 into the basket with those of common criminals. One can 
 no more control the circumstances that surround him, at 
 times, than London could control the ravages of the Black 
 Plague. 
 
 Then, good fortune pursues some men, and showers her 
 smiles upon them, whether they will have thein or not. 
 James Lick entered San Francisco with a few thousand dol- 
 lars, bought property, and went into business in an ordinary 
 way. The vicious little village became a great city, and 
 the " squatter " became a sovereign: he died worth millions. 
 Byron was a desperate character; he cared for no man or 
 thing. He roamed the wild seas over, a moral buccaneer. 
 He wrote as he drank, to drown the everlasting torment of 
 a soul filled with wretchedness. 
 
LUCK AND PLUCK. 71 
 
 " Cut from the sympathies of life, 
 And cast ashore from pleasure's boisterous surge, 
 A wandering, weary, worn, and wretched thing, 
 A scorched, and desolate, and blasted soul, 
 A gloomy wilderness of dying thought — 
 Repined, and groaned, and withered from the earth." 
 
 All he ever did was to fill the cup for self, and on his lips 
 the draught ever turned to woe. He never traveled a league 
 or wrote a line from desire of posthumous fame. Yet 
 honors flowed upon him from every quarter; his advice was 
 sought; his smile was courted; offices were proffered him; 
 he was given a high seat among the " canonized " bards; — 
 he was great in spite of himself. 
 
 Beau Brummel with his lucky sixpence bagged £40,000 
 in London and Newmarket. He would oftentimes shut his 
 eyes and play his card at random, winning every game. 
 There are men with ability far below the average whose 
 Midas-like touch turns every thing into gold — physicians who 
 don't know an enlargement of the aorta from the black leg, 
 yet have double the practice of learned men; lawyers who 
 don't know whether Justinian or Justin the Martyr was the 
 " Father of Law," whose names are to be found on every 
 other case of the court docket ; merchants who are ignorant 
 of the common laws of business, whose counters are thronged 
 with customers and who die rich; ministers whose heads 
 may be full of theology, but whose crowded pews could 
 teach them the gospel for many Sundays; teachers who 
 could be taught by many of their pupils; and ma3'ors of 
 cities who are unable to govern their own families. There 
 are fifty gentlemen who are writing M. C. after their names 
 this minute who are intellectually inferior to five times fifty 
 of their constituents. 
 
72 THE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 It is a fact that sheer indolence and an utter lack of "git 
 up " is sometimes the source of vast fortune; as with the 
 man in the early days of Chicago, who traded a mule for 
 an acre lot, and after tramping from pillar to post for twenty 
 years, turned up to claim the lot, and through defective tax 
 sale the worthless scamp held the propert)', worth $100,000. 
 Again, those rough, rocky, non-producing farms in Penns3'l- 
 vania that no man of energy would farm, gradually drifted 
 into the hands of a shiftless, do-nothing class of people. 
 Yet many of these people became millionaires when " oil 
 was struck." 
 
 These and a multitude of other instances that coine under 
 each man's personal observation have produced a wide- 
 spread belief in the potency of luck. One-half the people 
 down deep in their hearts ascribe all destiny to luck. Many 
 of the most successful men ha\-e been \ery pronounced in 
 their faith. Baron Rothschild held that luck was more val- 
 uable than energy or abilit}' ; and he would never engage in 
 a business enterprise with an unlucky man, no matter how 
 great his talents. Bonaparte believed in his star. Clement 
 L. Vallandingham, the celebrated politician of Ohio, acci- 
 dentalh^ shot himself, and when his physician told him he 
 was d^■ing said, it could not be true, for he had not 3'et 
 fulfilled his mission. Louis XIV believed that he was born 
 on a lucky day, and Frederick the Great thought he would 
 never lose a battle if he could commence it before sun-up. 
 Cromwell also had a lucky birth-da}% and other luck}' days, 
 when he hailed a battle with delight, for his horoscope 
 pointed to victory. Yet his lucky day proved to be the 
 da}- on which he died. And even sturdy old General Jack- 
 son is said to have given hints that he believed in foriii7ie. 
 
 In our days of push and perseverance this confidence in 
 
LUCE AND PLUCK. 73 
 
 unexplainable success is hardly so pronounced as it was 
 among the ancients. Cjesar's faith in his good Inck was as 
 unwavering as a Musselman's in the Koran. Once when a 
 storm threatened to sink the vessel, he sat unmoved, and 
 amid the prayers and tears of the passengers told the pilot 
 " You carry Caesar and his good fortune." Cicero held 
 that the gods controlled circumstances to the success of Scipio 
 and Marcellus. " It was not only their courage," he says, 
 " but their fortune which induced the people to intrust them 
 with the command of their armies. For there can be little 
 doubt but that, besides their great abilities, there was a cer- 
 tain _/br/?^«e appointed to attend upon them, and to conduct 
 them to honor and renown, and to uncommon success in the 
 management of important affairs." Scipio himself concurred 
 with Cicero, and belie^■ed that his lucky star eclipsed the 
 sun at the battle of Zama, affrighting the Carthaginian 
 hosts, and giving him an easy and notable victor}'; for it 
 closed the second Punic war victoriously for Rome. Xerxes, 
 Hannibal, and Alexander depended much on luck, and 
 Pliny says, " Some people refer their successes to virtue 
 and ability; but it is all fate." 
 
 When we see Paris set on fire at twenty different places 
 at one time and not burn. New York involved in a hundred 
 conflagrations and not be seriously injured ; and Mrs. 
 O'Leary's cow kick over a lantern and burn Chicago ; when 
 we find Jeremy Bentham ascribing his turn of thought and 
 conduct through life to the accidental reading of a single 
 phrase, " the greatest good of the greatest number ;" when 
 we see a man "cut untimely from his mother's womb," 
 found sleeping under a tree, when an infant, b}' the side of a 
 rattlesnake, in as manv dangers b}' fire as Kate Claxton, 
 have three different mates killed by his side in battle, hung 
 
74 TEE OENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 by a mob and left for dead, and finally step on a shingle nail 
 and die from the wound ; when we learn that Jacob bought 
 a birthright and a blessing for a mess of pottage, and after- 
 ward worked as a servant for seven years to get the woman 
 he loved, and then had to take another and work other seven 
 years for Rachel — we are prepared to confess an element of 
 chance in human affairs. 
 
 While circumstances may make or mar a man, it is equally 
 true that he may often make his circumstances. It is only 
 a jealous spirit that finds in luck the secret of others' suc- 
 cesses. It is very commonh^ said . " Oh ! General Stout 
 was very fortunate in not being cut up at Battlebury ;" 
 " Captain Salt is a lucky fellow to escape with his ship from 
 that Atlantic cyclone;" " It was a happy accident that gave 
 Mr. Puzzlebrain the clew to the working of that machine.'' 
 The fox in the fable thought the grapes sour because he 
 could not get at them. Suppose old Salt did luckily escape 
 the cyclone : by his industry he loaded quickly at Calcutta; 
 he had studied the law of the storms for years, and knew 
 how to make the most of every vagrant breeze ; he had led 
 his officers and crew b}' his own courageous spirit — and it is 
 •all these that have caused him to make the quickest trip on 
 record, evading the storms and enriching his employers. It 
 is the old adage fulfilled, " Fortune favors the brave." 
 
 Admitting every thing that can be reasonably claimed for 
 the controlling influence of luck, in nine-tenths of the cases 
 the results can be traced to the conduct of the individuals 
 themselves. If, through carelessness and indolence, the helm 
 is left unmanned, and the vessel careens into a trough of the 
 sea, it is too late, when the waves are rolling over the deck, 
 to " right her;" circumstances have now the control. There 
 
LUCE AND PLUCK. 75 
 
 was a time when you could have been ahead of circum- 
 stances and managed your destiny. 
 
 Seek to be superior to circumstances by understanding 
 their causes and coming. Throttle them in time, making 
 of yourself a greater circumstance than any you meet. To 
 work straight ahead is not enough; the work inust be put 
 in at the right time and in the right way. Two men of the 
 same abilities enter a business, having the same aim; one 
 reaches great eminence, and the other fails. It is because 
 they do not really labor alike. Two boys, twin brothers, at 
 the age of sixteen were emploj^ed as clerks in a large retail 
 store. They were equals in all noticeable respects: the}' 
 decided that one day they would own that store. One of 
 the boys did his cellar and package duties with a willing 
 step and a smile, solicited custom, and cared for his employ- 
 er's interest. The other did what he was told to do, but no 
 more, quarreled about his wages, whined because he was not 
 promoted, and said that the world owed him a better living. 
 Eventually he left the store and went to knock somewhere 
 else for luck. The one is now a partner in a wholesale 
 house, and the other is clerking in his wife's millinery shop. 
 
 Circumstances are stepping-stones to a man of mettle, by 
 which he is enabled to go to any reasonable height. They 
 are the blasts which blow over the mountains to toughen the 
 sinews of the traveler, that he ma}' surmount the loftiest 
 peaks and thus secure the vast resources of the mountain. 
 Wolsey would never have been the great cardinal if he had 
 not strengthened his muscle b}' lusty blows on beeves' heads, 
 and then come to the faith that he could upset circumstances 
 as readily. On he stepped by the sheer force of conquering 
 obstacles until his ambition became too vast for the church 
 and clutched the empire in its grasp. So, Kirke White 
 
76 TEE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 stepped over battles and bullocks, and conflicts longer and 
 more stubborn, until he unexpectedly found his name linked 
 with great accomplishment. Michael Faraday believed that 
 if he had not been compelled to hammer iron at his father's 
 forge, then serve as an apprentice book-binder, and afterw^ard 
 struggle for years for bread and knowledge, he would never 
 have excelled his master. Sir Humphry Da^y, in lucidly 
 expounding the abstruse points in natural science. 
 
 Arkwright and Akenside, Bulwer and Beethoven, Cuvier 
 and Correggio, Davy and DeFoe, Eldon and Ellenborough, 
 Franklin and Flaxman, Guthrie and Grundj', Herschel and 
 Holcroft, Ignatius and Irengeus, Inigo Jones and Rare Ben 
 Jonson, Kant and Kepler, Laplace and Lorraine, Miller and 
 Milton, Nelson and Newton, Opie and O 'Conner, Pelissier 
 and Pestalozzi, Quincy and Quintilian, Richter and Rey- 
 nolds, Sixtus V and Sainte-Beuve, Turnip Townsend and 
 Taglioni, Upham and Urban II, Vattel and Victor Emman- 
 uel, West and Wa3'land, Ximenes and Xenophon, Ypsilanti 
 Young, Zwigle and Ziska — by adverse circumstances were 
 developed to their great powers; difficulties were the unhewn 
 steps by which they went to sublime accomplishinents. 
 
 Some men start toward fortune, but not finding an " open 
 sesame," they sit down to mourn their ill luck. Their utter 
 stupidness keeps them from seeing the key in the lock that 
 they can turn and which, if turned, would open. Dr. John- 
 son, who came up to London with a single guinea in his 
 pocket, and who once accurately described himself in his 
 signature to a letter addressed to a noble lord, as Impransus, 
 or Dinnerless, has honestl}' said : " All the complaints 
 which are made of the world are unjust: I never knew a 
 man of merit neglected; it was generally his own fault that 
 he failed of success." 
 
LUCK AND PLUOE. 77 
 
 Washington Irving held Hke views. ." As for tlie talk,'' 
 said he, " about modest merit being neglected, it is too often 
 a cant, b}' vv'hich indolent and irresolute men seek to lay their 
 want of success at the door of the public. Modest merit 
 is, however, too apt to be inactive or negligent, or unin- 
 structed merit. Well-matured and well-disciplined talent is 
 always sure of a market, provided it exerts itself; but it 
 must not cower at home and expect to be sought for. There 
 is a good deal of cant, too, about the success of forward and 
 impudent men, while men of retiring worth are passed over 
 with neglect. But it usually happens that those forward 
 men have that valuable quality of promptness and activity 
 without which worth is a mere inoperative property. A 
 barking dog is often more useful than a sleeping lion." 
 
 A large proportion of the eminent men of every period 
 would have risen to their eminence if their circumstances had 
 been wholly difterent. Thus, to take a strong case, it is 
 impossible that any combination of circumstances could have 
 repressed Christopher Columbus to the level of undistin- 
 guished mediocrity. As Gallon says: "If a man is gifted 
 with vast intellectual power, eagerness to work and power of 
 working, I cannot comprehend how such a man should be 
 repressed. The world is always tormented with difficulties 
 waiting to be solved, struggling with ideas and feelings to 
 which it can give no adequate expression. If, then, there 
 exists a man capable of solving those difficulties, or of giving 
 a voice to those pent-up feelings, he is sure to be welcomed 
 with universal acclamation. We may almost say that he 
 has only to put his pen to paper and the thing is done." 
 
 Henry Clay, Andrew Johnson, Webster and Vanderbilt, 
 are all men that would have risen to eminence in any nation 
 and under any surroundings — they not only possessed work- 
 
78 THE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 ing power, but they had drh-ing capacit}-. It was this driving 
 capacity that carried them to prominence, and the working 
 power sustained them there. 
 
 There are many men of vast possibiUties whittling their 
 hves away at some mediocre pursuit because they have no 
 driving power — no pluck. Fortune knocks at them, some- 
 times until she nearly knocks their heads off, before they will 
 see their "tide " has come. George Washington, John Quincy 
 Adains and General Grant were men who would have lived 
 and died with all their forces pent up in " Utica," if circum- 
 stances had not fortunately opened the way and pressed them 
 into action. Luckily, when these slumbering giants are once 
 aroused, they no longer suffer for want of spirit. Daring 
 and pertinacity at once go the front and take charge of 
 the man. 
 
 Present ill luck sometimes proves to be the very best of 
 luck in the end. England's greatest general, Wellington, 
 came near being a revenue clerk. Dissatisfied with the 
 slowness of his promotion, he passed from infantry to cavalry 
 service twice and back again, without advancement. He 
 then applied for a position in the Revenue Office, but to no 
 avail. Although disheartened, he was too plucky to leave 
 the service and do nothing. He next flung himself into the 
 campaign in Flanders, determined to iiieHt promotion. Ten 
 years afterward we find him leading seven thousand Sepoys 
 and British against thirty thousand Mahrattas, and winning 
 a brilliant victory. From that time forward he made cir- 
 cumstances. 
 
 The very shrewdest financiers occasionally lose money in a 
 venture; the most copious orators are sometimes dumb; the 
 best sea-captains have lost vessels; the ablest generals have 
 lost battles; and every successful man can point to many 
 
LUCK AND PLUCK. 79 
 
 failures. But the one that can sustain a defeat, and come 
 out of the disaster in a better condition than he went into 
 the fight, is sure of promotion. General Sigel seldom won 
 a battle, but when he was forced to retreat, woe befell the 
 victorious enemy that pursued him. Some men never get 
 their harness on until the day is lost; then, like Bonaparte, 
 they look at the sun, and if there is enough daylight left, 
 they will re-win the battle, and make believe that they only 
 lost it in order to gain a greater victory. " In one respect," 
 said the Admiral Coligni, "I may claim superiority over 
 Alexander, over Scipio, over Caesar. They won great 
 battles, it is true; I have lost four great battles, and yet I 
 show to the enemy a more formidable front than ever." 
 
 No great work has ever been accomplished purely by 
 fortune. There has been a purpose of life toward which the 
 actor has addressed his thoughts and preparations; and this 
 very preparation enabled him to take advantage of all the 
 favorable circumstances that fell in his way. Are not such 
 men worthy of luck f A lite without a thought will never 
 be favored by fortune. '"An aimless life," says a recent 
 author, " can scarcely be other than a comparatively useless 
 one. There are thousands of men who have failed of the 
 purposes of life, not because they were vicious, not because 
 they became criminal, not because they were not clever in 
 many respects, but because there was nothing toward which 
 they aimed. There are many men who are very genial and 
 companionable, who say many things that are worth one's 
 hearing, and do many things that are creditable, but who, after 
 all, never prosper. They go through life always exciting 
 wonder among men that there should be so much in a man, 
 and that he should come to so little. Their life is like a 
 harness, all the parts of which have been unbuckled from 
 
80 TEE GENIUS OP INDUSTRY. 
 
 their fellows, and which are so many separate straps heaped 
 up in a room. Unless they be put together and placed on 
 the horse, he can not draw. There are multitudes of men 
 who were never harnessed in their life. They are bearing 
 nothing. They are aiming in no direction. They are 
 running around in circles of transient thought and feeling. 
 They are changing their purposes continually; they are never 
 doing much, and are never doing it very well. The onlv 
 thing which they accomplish effectuall}' is at length d3-ing; 
 and let us hope that they will have a better chance, and that 
 they will reap the advantage of their experience in the other 
 life." 
 
 No one can have success who despises trifles. " If a straw," 
 says Dryden, " can be made the instrument of happiness, he 
 is a wise man who does not despise it." The atomic theor}- 
 is the true one. The universe is but an infinite attrition of 
 particles. The grandest whole is resolvable into fractions; 
 or, as the ditty has it — 
 
 " Little drops of water, little grains of sand, 
 Make the mighty ocean and the pleasant land." 
 
 A gnat can drive an elephant mad. The corals can 
 founder a navy. So in most lives, it is not some colossal 
 thing, but the turning of a straw that drives the engines 
 forward or backward. When we see that Madame Gal- 
 vani discovered galvanism by observing the result of an 
 electric spark accidentally dropped on a dead frog; that 
 Argand's lamp was discovered by the chance holding of a 
 tube over a candle; that "a Whig ministry was hurled 
 from power in England by the spilling of some water on a 
 lady's gown; " that Franklin's whole destiny was altered b}- 
 the accident of a tattered copy of Cotton Mather's " Essavs 
 to do Good ; " that Sir John Moore passed, b}' the narrow 
 
LUCK AND PLUCK. 81 
 
 channel of a few. careless stanzas, penned b}' an ordinar\' 
 Irish parson, from the shores of oblivion to the isles of 
 immortality; that the pain produced by a thistle warned the 
 Scotch army of the approach of the Danes; that the cackle 
 of a goose saved Rome from the Gauls; that flies attacking 
 a congress of statesmen below their knee breeches hastened 
 the signing of the Declaration which gave birth to our own 
 mighty republic — we learn that little things, in some nice 
 situations, turn the scale of fate. 
 
 Some eminent men have persistently asserted that there 
 is no such thing as luck, that men are at all times the arbi- 
 ters of their own fortunes, and that if an unkind fate over- 
 takes them it is because of their imprudence and careless- 
 ness. A critical observer has written: "If a man will put 
 his mind into his business and dri\e it with energy, bad 
 luck will never overtake hini." Great men never despise 
 small things. ^Michael Angelo was one dav explaining to 
 a visitor at his studio what he had been doing since his last 
 visit: "I have retouched this part, polished that, softened 
 this feature, brought out that muscle, given some expression 
 to this lip, and more energy to that limb." " But these are 
 trifles," remarked the visitor. '' It may be so," replied the 
 sculptor, " but recollect that trifles make perfection, and 
 perfection is no trifle." 
 
 Many of the most distinguished names in the world's 
 history were nearly half a century in attracting the admir- 
 ing notice of mankind; as witness Cromwell and Cavour, 
 and Bismarck and Palmerston, and the elder Beecher. But 
 their star will never die; their works, their influence on the 
 age in which the}' lived, will be perpetuated to remote 
 generations. This should be encouragement to all plodders, 
 for their time may come. 
 
82 THE GENIUS OF INDUSTRi'. 
 
 In the battle of life we may be drawn as conscripts, but 
 our courage or our cowardice depends on ourselves. To be 
 a conscript is no invidious thing if circumstances have cast 
 us there; but not to do our duty is shame anywhere. Every 
 man is placed in some degree under the influence of events 
 and of other men; but it is for him to decide whether he 
 will rule or be ruled by them. But they will rarely over- 
 whelm him if he put up a stout and manful resistance. 
 Duty was the one word which rang in Wellington's ear, 
 and, following its lead with the pluck and persistence of an 
 iron man, he overcame every difficult}^, and became the 
 conqueror of Bonaparte. Hannibal fought Rome no more 
 desperately as general than he would have done as private. 
 It was this spirit that made Nelson write when he was 
 about to take charge of the finest fleet in the world, " The 
 Admiralty may order me a. cock-boat, but I will do my 
 duty." "Captain Miller," said Scott, at Lundy's Lane, " can 
 you take that battery?" "/'// try, Sir,'''' was the answer. 
 And the gallant Lawrence cried, with indomitable pluck, 
 "Don't give up the ship!" almost with his latest breath. 
 It is next to impossible for this kind of a spirit to fail in 
 the end. These are the men who make out of them- 
 selves a greater circumstance than any they meet. 
 
 Fortune stood against Girard, Astor and Gray, but 
 whether the crops were plentiful or failed, whether flood 
 or drought, whether flush or bankrupt times, if they could 
 not control events, they trimmed their sails to suit them, 
 and so benefitted by every circumstance. They filled their 
 bins out of the field where other men garnered nothing, 
 and died worth millions. Washington, Cyrus and Caesar 
 knew how to organize victory out of defeat, and hence 
 always forced circumstances to bless them. It was the 
 
LUCK AND PLUCK. 83 
 
 same kind of a hand that carved the Venus de Medici, 
 painted the Last Supper, and wrote the ^neid. Paradise 
 Lost, and Festus. Morse obtained his telegraph, Fuhon 
 his steamboat, and FrankHn his Hghtning by being greater 
 than circumstances. The men who have gained true 
 success in any department of hfe have not been men who 
 placed any great reliance on luck. They never believed 
 that the world owed them a living; rather, they believed 
 that they owed the world something, and must quickly be 
 about paying it. While men are the sport of circumstances 
 one time in ten, nine times in ten circumstances are but clay 
 in their hands out of which they can mold their life to 
 wealth and honor if they will. 
 
 Henry Ward Beecher once hit off this thought in the fol- 
 lowing terse and vigorous style: 
 
 " Do not expect a legacy. Do not expect a division of 
 your father's estate. Be honorable; be manly; cultivate a 
 spirit of independence; be proud that }'ou are working out 
 your own fortune. There is a pride which is ignominious, 
 and there is a pride which is honorable. I love to hear a 
 man say, and I honor a man who says, standing respected 
 and strong in life, ' I am not indebted to fortune for my 
 property. I earned it by the sweat of my brow. I baptized 
 every dollar of it.' Money so consecrated by honest work 
 usually stays by a man — and it usually has a man to 
 stay by. 
 
 " Rely on yourselves; do not rely on luck. ' But do you 
 believe in luck.^' Oh yes, I believe in it — of course I do. 
 ' Well, then, why not rely upon it.? ' He that had a good 
 father and mother, had good luck. He whose father and 
 mother whipped him enough, had good luck. He whose 
 father and mother would not let him have his own way in 
 
84 TUE OENIUS OF INUU-^riiY. 
 
 his lower faculties, and compelled him to use his higher ones, 
 had good luck. He who has a good appetite and good 
 digestion, has good luck. He who rises early and toils late, 
 and never thinks of any thing except that which belongs to 
 him, and which he has fairly earned, has good luck. The 
 man who does not quarrel has good luck. The man who 
 by his kindness makes everybody about him like him, has 
 good luck. Good faculties with good habits induced on 
 them are good luck. This is the kind of good luck for a 
 man to seek alter. I never knew a man that wanted to 
 shirk all through life that had good luck. I have known 
 men who were laz}' and tattered, and drove their cow to 
 pasture in the morning (not being much more intelligent 
 than she), and shuffled back again, wishing the dew was not 
 so wet, and wishing the}' could find a quarter of a dollar, 
 which they never did find — except one man that I know of, 
 who found what he thought was a quarter, and turned it in 
 his hand, and, seeing that it was an old Spanish eighteen- 
 and-three-quarter-cent piece, said: 'If any body else had 
 found this, it would have been twent3--five cents! ' I have 
 known shiftless men who were forever hunting for good luck, 
 but who never found it. Luck is in vigor. Luck is in 
 courage. Luck is in good hard sense. Luck is in work. 
 Do not trust to any other luck than this. The fool's luck, 
 lottery luck, good-fortune luck, superstitious luck — do not 
 trust to that. If there is any luck, it is in the heart, in the 
 head, in the hand." 
 
 However much a man may ascribe his failures to luck, it 
 alwa\-s comes poorl}' off when he is successful. The one 
 that talks the most about his bad luck is silent as the tomb 
 about good luck. For every dollar made, every good work 
 accomplished, every triumph achieved in business, we find a 
 
LUCK AND PLUCK. 85 
 
 cause in our own merit. In a lordly sort of way we blink 
 out the whole potenc}' of luck, and say, "All the glory be 
 unto us." Even if shown that we were the sport of circum- 
 stances in the beginning we will never stop until we con- 
 vince others that it was our wisdom that enabled us to grap- 
 ple with the opportunity, and our well-directed labors alone 
 that could forge destin}^ out of such small materials. 
 
 Louis Napoleon was the " luckiest " man that ever lived. 
 Good and bad luck followed him hand in hand through his 
 whole career. He was born an illegitimate child, and had 
 a king to father him. He began at Strasburg an effort to 
 overthrow the French government, which proved abortive 
 and covered him with ridicule; whereupon he turned his 
 attention to philosophy and gained esteem by his writings. 
 Upon the o\erthrow of Louis Philippe, he was elected a 
 member of the Constituent Assembly from four different 
 departments. The lameness of his first speech pro\oked 
 Thiers to call him /ete de debris — a wooden head, and Victor 
 Hugo, in lofty scorn, dubbed him Napoleon the Little. 
 Nevertheless he was elected President of the Republic, a few 
 months later, by four million majority. The Assembh' 
 undertook to wrest the power of the state from his hand ; he 
 overthrew it, cast its members into prison, and appealed to 
 the people; they confirmed his acts, and extended his presi- 
 dency ten years by a majorit}' of six million votes. The 
 people had revolted and bled for republicanism, and were 
 prepared to die rather than have a monarchy. Yet on the 
 2 1 St and 2 2d of November, 1852, they declared him " hered- 
 itary Emperor of the French, b}' the grace of God and by 
 the will of the nation " — by a vote of eight million to a few 
 thousand. Condemned by all the world, his reign was the 
 most brilliant France ever knew. Exiled to England once 
 
86 THE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 more, he died at Chiselhurst, honored by potentates and 
 powers, while France was bleeding from intestine strife. His 
 life affords an enlarged view of what occurs to every man. 
 For no doubt, as Byron said, sometimes 
 
 "Men are the sport of circumstances, when 
 The circumstances seem the sport of men." 
 
 While Napoleon was tossed on the capricious waves of 
 French favor, and on several occasions bowed his head to 
 the fury of passing storms, yet, as a whole, he outgeneraled 
 misfortune, and by his indomitable pluck stamped himself on 
 France the most eminent success of the nineteenth century. 
 
 Whatever else may be said of luck, there is never any bad 
 luck in kindness. The oily tongue and personal magnetism 
 of Marlborough could smooth grim-\'isaged war in the per- 
 son of Charles XII of Sweden and turn his warrior-heart 
 from the humbling of a nation. Sir Walter Raleigh flung 
 his laced jacket into a puddle, and won a proud queen's favor. 
 Napoleon III never forgave an enem}^ yet he taxed the 
 Empire that he might provide for those who treated him 
 civilly during his exile and penury. " It is said that the cele- 
 brated miser. Jack Elwes, to save butchers' bills, made a 
 point of eating his own sheep from head to tail, even though 
 the mutton almost crawled off the plate before it was con- 
 sumed. And yet the same sordid being gave hundreds to 
 advance the interests of an ofKcer whose manners had pleased 
 him in a few casual interviews; thus showing that, when all 
 else had failed, the oiled key of courtes}' could force back 
 the rusty wards even of the miser's double-locked heart." 
 
 A word of kind encouragement is oftentimes worth inore 
 to a )7oung man than a fortune of twenty thousand dollars. 
 The sympathizing counsel of William Makepeace Thack- 
 eray gave hope and nerve, and finally led on to fortune. 
 
LUCK AND rmCK. 87 
 
 more young men than the money of any Croesus has ever 
 done. The wealth of Aster or Stewart could not have helped 
 and encouraged' an enslaved race on the road to libert}- as the 
 burning words of William Lloyd Garrison did. Alexander 
 owed more of his success to his tutor and friend Aristotle 
 than to the crown of Philip. Harriet Martineau was made 
 an authoress by one encouraging sentence from her brother. 
 
 Neglect of duty in some way is the most fruitful source 
 of ill luck. Bonaparte lost Waterloo and his prestige for- 
 ever by his causeless delay's and carelessness in directing his 
 lines of attack. Sheridan, with the income of a prince, was 
 always in terror of duns, through his silly expenditures. 
 Coleridge, with brains enough to stock a thousand men, 
 thoughtlessly frittered away his genius, as Lamb wittily 
 said, "on forty thousand fragments," and left nothing to pos- 
 terity but his debts and his rubbish. 
 
 That man is to be pitied who is too cowardly to go out 
 and do battle for an honest li\ing in the field of human 
 exertion. He will never have good luck. He lost luck 
 when he lost his pluck. Good pluck is good luck. It is bad 
 luck not to have a definite aim in life. It is bad luck to feel 
 above your business. It is bad luck to be ashamed of jour 
 poverty. It is bad luck to indulge in high living, or idleness, 
 or dishonest}', or brawls, or expect a dollar or an honor that 
 you do not fairly earn. It is bad luck for any young man 
 to drink liquor, and eat tobacco, and smoke, and swear, and 
 visit soda fountains, and cream saloons, and theaters, and 
 brothels, and chase after the fashions, and fret and scold, 
 and abuse people, and run other people's business and neg- 
 lect his own. It is pluck which weaves the web of life and 
 turns the wheel of fortune. It is pluck that amasses wealth, 
 crowns men with honors, and fors^es the links of life. 
 
•cfi<;)^(;)3]j^^ ^A n^mW 
 
 Be what nature intended vou for, and you will succeed. — Sidney Smif/i. 
 
 The roughest road often leads to the snnoothest fortune. — Franklin. 
 
 The parent who does not teach his child a trade, teaches hinn to be a 
 th I e f. — Brahminical Scriptures. 
 
 In every work that he began 
 prospered. — ^ Chron. x\.\i, 21. 
 
 he did it with all his heart, and 
 
 Although men are accused for not knowing their own weakness, yet per- 
 haps as few know their own strength. It is in men as in soUs, where there is 
 sometimes a vein of gold which the owner knows not of. — Sviift. 
 
&oo^iT}| ^ y<^ 
 
 ¥^] HE choice of a profession, as a necessity to success, 
 - is based upon two fundamental principles, one of 
 
 which is, that he who will not labor shall not eat. 
 This is so immutable that e\-ery man is compelled either to 
 work or to worr}'. There is no \-alue which has not become 
 such through labor. There is no achievement dispropor- 
 tioned to, the eflbrt spent upon it. There is no life through 
 which mankind is better or happier which has not wrought 
 its beneficence through patient endeavor. All that we call 
 progress — whether civilization or art, education or prosperity 
 — from the culture of a barley-stalk to the construction of a 
 steamship; from the sculpturing of a statue to the perfecting 
 of a man — depends on labor. Activity is the cradle in 
 which God rocks the universe. All that gives peace and all 
 that secures joy springs from hard, honest labor. 
 
 There are profounder reasons, then, for choosing a profes- 
 sion than simply the getting of bread. We are here, and 
 we are men. We have our way to inake through more 
 
90 THE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 than mere animal life. We are responsible in proportion to 
 our possibilities. He who hides his talent will assuredly 
 pay the penalty. . There is no discharge in this war of life 
 till the end come. If you seek contentment and rest, it is 
 only to be found in the grave, and Beecher's answer to the 
 no\ice who wrote him, desiring an easy place, suits you. 
 "Young man," said he, "I have thought over your case 
 thoroughly, and know of no place for you but in Greenwood. 
 There nothing will ever trouble you but the worms." Charles 
 Lamb sighed for years to be freed from his arduous duties 
 in the India Office. When at last released, he bounded out 
 into the world like an uncaged bird. " I would not go back 
 to my prison," he exclaimed to a friend, " for ten thousand 
 pounds a year. I am free! I am free! Positively, the best 
 thing a man can do is nothing." Before three years had 
 fled, a change came o'er the spirit of his dream. Though 
 toasted and toadied to by his ardent admirers, he found that 
 his slavery at the desk was a blessing compared with " noth- 
 ing to do." To escape from despair, and stop the mind 
 from preying on itself, he gladly bound himself out to labor 
 again. Too much leisure is the black spirit that has ruined 
 the life of many a noble man. " An idle brain is the devil's 
 workshop." 
 
 The second principle, making it a necessity that there 
 should be choice made of a profession, is that each person 
 has a natural aptitude for some calling. A mistake in 
 choosing a calling is the cause of more failures than an}' 
 other one thing. Many drift into a business b}- force of sur- 
 rounding circumstances; some by the advice of solicitous 
 friends, or, as is too often the case, impelled by their own 
 ambitious promptings. We should be surprised at many 
 gettino: on as well as they do, working outside of the harness 
 
CHOOSING A VOCATION. 91 
 
 nature made for them, did we not have such great confi- 
 dence in the efficacy of pluck and perseverance. But what 
 a toilsome journey do they make of it, rowing against the 
 current of nature! Only sheer necessity drives them on. 
 They live and die dissatisfied with their lot, never suspecting 
 the true cause. One-half the labor expended, if put into the 
 channel of their natural tendencies, might have brought 
 them gratifying success, and crowned them with a peaceful 
 life. Men, under the spur of discontent, often leave their 
 adopted calling to seek one more profitable; but, having 
 taken their departure, on they drive from bad to worse, until 
 what little chance they had to succeed in something dies 
 away. Then they lament their fate, and, quite likel}-, look 
 with jealousy and sourness on those about them. Thus, the 
 world is becoming filled with these unfortunates. They 
 have violated the law of their organization; they have 
 under-estimated their vocation and over-strained their capac- 
 ity. The physicians are right : more men are killed h\ 
 worry than by work. And if many die through an o\er- 
 reach in avarice, many also die through an under-reach in 
 abilit}". It is the consciousness of being incompetent to hold 
 the wheel of life that sends despair to the hearts of men. 
 If all this blundering is to be remedied, vocations must be 
 chosen adapted to men's capacities. The laws of being are 
 so adjusted and ordered as to make this compulsory. On 
 no other basis can we build lofty and well-founded hope. 
 
 It is a very common thing to see an ambitious father edu- 
 cate his son lor the law, fondly anticipating the day in which 
 he shall rival William M. Evarts, when really he has no more 
 penchant for Blackstone than Edwards, the naturalist, had 
 for the Scotch pedagogue. Another boy is guided by his 
 father into the cutting of hoop-poles and the cleaving of 
 
92 THE GENlU.'i Ob' INUUtirilV. 
 
 shingles, when his dexterity in opening up knott}^ questions, 
 his abihty in making the worse appear the better cause, and 
 his ineradicable disposition never to know when he is 
 whipped, all indicate that he was intended to control the 
 judgment of a jury. There are pastors breaking the_ bread 
 of life with feeble hands, confessedly additional burdens on 
 the groaning walls of Zion, who freely acknowledge their 
 inability to wake slumbering souls to righteousness; but with 
 a devotedness and self-sacrifice worthy of Divine commis- 
 eration, they decide it to be their duty to go on. As car- 
 penters, they might frame a house so that " the whole body 
 would be fitly framed together and compacted by that which 
 every joint supplieth; " but as builders tor God they are fail- 
 ures. There are men selling goods who ought to be preach- 
 ers; horseshoers who could better diagnose the patient's 
 infirmity; teachers who should be journalists; and plowers 
 of land who by nature were adapted to break soil in the 
 tough field of thought. 
 
 The number of men who, all their life-time, have been 
 warring with natural impulses is immense. We have men 
 and women, of every calling and character, who, with 
 chagrin, are eyeing their rivals as they scale the cliffs of 
 honor, while they plod along over painful levels. Not only 
 have they committed a fraud on their worthy occupation; 
 they have crowded out those who might have become win- 
 ners. " If you choose to represent the various parts of life," 
 saj's Sidney Smith, " b}' holes in a table, of different shapes 
 — some circular, some triangular, some square, some oblong 
 — and the persons acting these parts, by bits of wood of 
 similar shapes, we shall general!}' find that the triangular 
 person has got into the square hole, the oblong one into the 
 
CIIOOSINIJ A VOCATION. <>3 
 
 triangular, while the square person has squeezed himself into 
 the round hole." 
 
 True, there are some persons of such splendid talent, such 
 practical genius, that they shine in an}- undertaking. Frank- 
 lin was a good typesetter, foreman and editor, as well as a 
 great philosopher. So was Horace Greele}-. Robert Coll- 
 j-er was a good blacksmith and is a famous preacher. John 
 Dolland, the silk weaver, gained a seat among the scientific 
 by his invention of the achromatic telescope. Winckelman, 
 the shoemaker, by his antiquarian researches, enriched the 
 world; and Edwards (mentioned before in this chapter), 
 another shoemaker, shows a most enviable entomological 
 record, poking into every nook and crann}', and wading all 
 day long, waist-deep, for bugs and worms. Agassiz is said, 
 by Albert Barnes, to have been master of five special depart- 
 ments of science. But while a few men of unflagging ener- 
 gies and double genius ha\e mastered more than one calling 
 — working for bread with the right hand and following their 
 soul's desire with the left — it does not by any means follow 
 that all can do so Many of these men, even, might have 
 attained still greater results by less divided effort. At any 
 rate, the old adage, "Jack of all trades and master of none," 
 is not to be scorned. 
 
 It is not often a professional man is required to perform 
 manual labor. In fact, society has come to such a pass that 
 if he works at a trade, he is pronounced a failure. Occa- 
 sionally, an unusually energetic man ma}- do so without pro- 
 voking much remark. The prevalence of this censorship is 
 unfortunate, for the straits to which professional men are 
 often driven for support ar6 distressing. There are ver\- few 
 who possess courage enough to lay aside their professional 
 pride, and pour forth the sweat of their brow tor bread and 
 
94 THE GENU'S OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 butter. And yet in that ver}- humiliation many men have 
 found the discipHne that enables them to triumph. " There 
 is no more fatal error," says Hugh Miller, " into which a 
 workingman can fall than the mistake of deeming himself 
 too good for his humble employments, and yet it is a mis- 
 take as common as it is fatal. I had already seen several 
 poor, wrecked mechanics, who believing themselves to be 
 poets, and regarding the manual occupation by which alone 
 they could live in independence, beneath them, had become, 
 in consequence, little better than mendicants, too good to 
 work for their bread, but not too good virtually to beg it; 
 and looking upon them as beacons of warning, I determined 
 that with God's help, I should give their error a wide offing, 
 and never associate the idea of meanness with that of an 
 honest calling, or deem m^'self too good to be independent." 
 
 Herschel was a musician, and followed this business for a 
 living until his fame as an astronomer compelled him to 
 retire from the pursuit. He played the oboe at Bath, and 
 while the dancers were resting, he would go out and take a 
 peep at the heavens through his telescope, and quietly return 
 to his work again. While thus a player tor bread, and a 
 scientist in his leisure hours, he discovered the Georgium 
 Sidus. His abilities were at once conceded, and a livelihood 
 ceased to be the chief object of his life. The stars gave 
 their interpreter a better support than the dancing-room. 
 The oboe-player was called away from his wind-instrument 
 to teach the world astronom}'. 
 
 An honest and vigorous nature will make itself felt in any 
 vocation. " It is pertectl}' indifferent," saj's Goethe, "within 
 what circle an honest man acts, provided he do but know 
 how to understand and fill out that circle." But gi-eat tal- 
 ents alone can not fill out that circle. When Sir Joshua 
 
CHOOSING A VOCATION. 9g 
 
 Reynolds said, " What one man has done any man can do," 
 and that " there is no Hmit to the proficiency of an artist 
 except the Hmit of his own painstaking," he was certainly 
 feeling the moving of his own mighty powers rather than 
 observing the character and fate of men about him. 
 
 It is not necessary to possess shining talents. Of course 
 one wants to be supported by a strong, original bias, if he 
 aspires to be master, as thinker, or artist, or actor' so strong, 
 that every other work were purgatory to him, and this, 
 though followed through pinching poverty, were paradise 
 itself. But, especially in the money-getting lines, a clever 
 turn in some direction, backed by good shrewd sense, is the 
 great requirement. In most departments of life a manful 
 performance of dut}' brings the surest reward. " If a boy 
 is not clever." says Arnold, ''this is a hint from Nature to 
 the parents not to assign him a path of life where superlative 
 excellence is required, with a view to success, but to find 
 him an avocation amid the 
 
 '"Girdles of the middle mountains, happy realms of fruit 
 and flower, 
 Distant from ignoble weakness, distant from the heights 
 of power.' 
 
 If the parents arrogate the right to determine the profession 
 for their child, they will often find themselves in great diffi- 
 culty, especially with that child who shows no remarkable 
 predilection for any employment. Parents commit a great 
 crime when, thinking the child a fool, they do not hesitate 
 to tell him so. If a son is found not to be doing well in any 
 particular walk of life, that is simply a sign that there is 
 some other walk in life in which he will probablv do exceed- 
 ingly well." An English father found that his son was 
 a great failure as a midshipman. He began at once to 
 
96 THE GENIUS OB' INDUSTUY. 
 
 study the bent of the boy's mind, and concluded he would 
 make a lawyer, and as a lawyer he rose to the top of his 
 profession. 
 
 All admit that to some degree circumstances shape the 
 man. We can all point to persons within the circle of our 
 acquaintance who would have been Catholics at Rome, 
 Mohammedans at Constantinople, and Buddhists at Pekin. 
 " Have not the raw breezes from snow-clad heights ever 
 been held an inspiration to the soul of liberty.^ " Have not 
 the rays of an equatorial sun been the smith that forged 
 the chains of slavery.' Is not the agriculturist most fre- 
 quently reared on his own soil.' Is not the sailor often born 
 beside the heaving expanse which he chooses for a home.' 
 All the differences of character or capacity can not be explained 
 by the action of extraneous influences, 3'et we are forced to 
 admit that mind and heart are always moulded, to a degree, 
 by surrounding circumstances. 
 
 There is a magical action and reaction of minds on one 
 another. Contact with the good never fails to bless; con- 
 tact with the impure never fails to blight. Sir Peter Lely 
 made it a rule never to look at a bad picture. He said his 
 pencil always caught a taint if he did. There are critical 
 moments in the life when impressions are made that gi^■e 
 color to all subsequent actions. The mind of ever}' youth 
 is peering into the future with fermenting solicitude— he is 
 anxiously waiting for the impregnating idea that shall fer- 
 tilize it. He has been tied down to the routine of some dull 
 pursuit, but is now beginning to feel the throbbings of a new 
 being. As yet he knows not which way to go. The 
 supreme moment of his life has arrived when he reads the 
 biography of some Hercules, whose inviting footprints are 
 laid bare to the top of glory ; or in forming the acquaintance 
 
CHOOSING A VOCATION. 97 
 
 of some man eminent in the life toward which his waking 
 powers are blindly staggering. It is for art, and he forms 
 the friendship of an artist; it is for engineering, and some 
 engineer takes a liking to him because he is apt ; it is for 
 letters, and some literary man gives him the freedom of his 
 library; it is for merchandizing, and a merchant, thinking he 
 would make a good clerk, employs him : these are all recog- 
 nitions that form a crisis in the life. " I have traveled much," 
 says Lord Shelburne, " but I have never been so influenced 
 by personal contact with any man; and if ever I accomplish 
 any good in the course of my life, I am certain that the 
 recollection of M. de Malesherbes will animate my soul." 
 
 Thus it was with Haydn; Handel re-created him the first 
 time he played in his presence. Haydn burned with an 
 insatiable desire for music after this, and but for this circum- 
 stance, he himself believed that he would never have written 
 the " Creation." Scarlatti was another of Handel's offspring. 
 He followed him all over Italy, and generously said his brush 
 had been tipped by Handel. Scanderbeg, Prince of Epirus, 
 had so inspired the Turks by his ^■alor that, when dead, they 
 wished to possess his bones, hoping to receive some of the 
 courage he possessed while living. Douglass bore the Jieart 
 of Bruce with him on the crusades. On seeing a knight 
 surrounded by the Saracens, he threw the hero's heart into 
 the thickest of the fight, " Pass first in light, as thou wert 
 wont to do, and Douglass will follow thee or die! " 
 
 Correggio discovered himself in the biography of Michael 
 Angelo, and as he felt his soul to be en rapport with that of 
 the artist, he exclaimed, " And I too am a painter." Ben- 
 jamin Franklin early read Cotton Mather's book, •' Essays 
 to do Good." This made such a profound impression on his 
 youthful mind that he found himself continualh' repeating its 
 
yS TIIl'^ GEM us OF INDUSTRY 
 
 maxims. In lute }ears he pronouneed those essays to be the 
 father of all his usefulness. Samuel Drew avers that he 
 caught inspiration from Franklin, and moulded his morals 
 and business habits from Franklin. One reading of " Plu- 
 tarch's Lives " drew forth a passion from Alfieri, which 
 made him dedicate his life to literature. When Ignatius 
 Lo3'ola was lying wounded after a severe battle, he asked for 
 a book to read. " The Lives of the Saints " was given him. 
 Its perusal aroused a religious '' calm " in his mind; he deter- 
 mined to forsake the ambitions of war; and, in the abjectest 
 poverty and humility, he devoted himself to the church, 
 founding a religious order. The " Life and Writings of 
 John Huss " drove Martin. Luther into the Reformation. 
 Sir Joshua Reynolds attributes his first impulse toward art 
 to reading Richardson's account of a great painter. Iloydon 
 was aroused to the same pursuit by afterward reading the 
 career of Reynolds as an artist. 
 
 These illustrations do not assert that mere admiration for 
 " great genius " is all that is necessar}- to call out the 
 powers of a new life. Admiration alone can not make a 
 creditable imitation of any 'model. And imitation is not 
 greatness. No mere imitator can build a lasting success. 
 One may form the acquaintance of a score of eminent men, 
 and not have a single impulse aroused; he may read a hun- 
 dred biographies, and ne\er have his soul touched. It is 
 all because none of these find a kindred character within. But 
 when the heroism of these actors dawns upon the senses, and, 
 striking the chords of the soul, finds a response there, then 
 it is that the acquaintance is the fortuitous circumstance of 
 that life. Then the potencies of the soul are evolved — the 
 possibilities of the character are revealed, and the man takes 
 the place for which his natural abilities have fitted him. If 
 
CHOOSING A VOCATION. 99 
 
 however, you should find that all the studies of biography 
 and the companionship of rising men fail to start you on the 
 highway of fame, take with unabated energy the humbler 
 route assigned you, do with all your might what falls to your 
 lot, and do it with grace and lofty countenance; for this itself 
 is a rare token of true manhood. 
 
 Fortunately for the world, many of her most gifted 
 children possessed a genius that never forsook them. The}- 
 were superior to circumstances. They did not wait for some 
 one to arouse them. They came into being quick and hot 
 for action. The boy West, at seven years of age, struck by 
 the beauty of a sleeping infant he was rocking, forthwith 
 seized paper and drew its portrait in red and black ink. 
 Richard Wilson's sport when a boy was to slip into the hall 
 up stairs and draw figures of men and horses on the wall 
 with the charred end of a stick. Gainsborough would run 
 off from school at the age of ten, and go sketching in the 
 woods of Sudbury. Hogarth was distressingly dull in his 
 school studies, and his exercises on the blackboard and slate 
 were more noted for their embellishments than for the exam- 
 ples themselves. John Quincy Adams made good speeches 
 at the age of seven. Audubon lo\-ed the birds and '' took 
 to the woods" irresistibly. These boys gave early premoni- 
 tions of their coming art. And who will say that to have 
 curbed them would not have dwarfed them.'' "It is said 
 that when Rachel, the actress," writes Prof. Mathews, 
 " threw a table-cloth round her person, she was draped on 
 thg instant with a becomingness which all the modistes that 
 ever fractured staj'-lace, or circumlocuted crinoline, never 
 imparted to the female figure before. She had a genius for 
 it, as Brummell had for tying his cravat. Thousands choked 
 themselves in trying to imitate the Beau's knot, but in vain; 
 
100 THE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 the secret died with him, and is now among the lost 
 
 arts." 
 
 But in the most of persons "natural selection" is not so 
 strong that it will override all barriers, and lead them from 
 infancy. The fact is, the great mass of men are never stirred 
 by strong promptings in any direction. The thousands stand 
 at the opening of the ways, with vacant eyes and heavy 
 hands, like Micawber, waiting for something to turn up. 
 For these we write. To be successful, one must search out 
 his natural inclinations and obey them. Deeply hidden, they 
 may be, under the rubbish your surroundings have- heaped 
 on you, but down there, latent, lies an inborn predisposition 
 that is able to carr}' 3'ou to success, in spite of caste, or igno- 
 rance, or poverty. 
 
 It has been said that there is no such thing as natural apti- 
 tude; that circumstances and education decide every man's 
 fate, Buffon, that prodigy of energy, says, " Genius is 
 patience; " but then he was modestly writing his own auto- 
 biography. Carlyle says, " Nature has not set any man in 
 molds;" that every man could write poetry if he liked — 
 and then explains for himself by saying he doesn't like 
 poetry. Pope and Bryant must have liked poetr}', for they 
 wrote, at sixteen, articles that Thomas Carlyle, with kW his 
 splendid talents and wealth of imagination, did not surpass 
 at seventy. Chesterfield, who was bent on polishing men, 
 said you could cultivate a man into an}- thing. He lavished 
 patient years in trying to train his son, Stanhope, into agree- 
 able manners, and was finall}' compelled to leave him miser- 
 ably rude. Cultivation could no more make Stanhope a 
 gentleman than want of it could make Chesterfield a clown. 
 This plea fails, especially when we find disposition asserted 
 before education, and in opposition to all training. West 
 
CHOOSING A VOCATION. 101 
 
 was not educated as an artist; he did not so much as have 
 the benefit of paintings on the wall. The father of Pascal 
 undertook to give him a purely literary education, avoiding 
 the exact sciences; but the boy stole away and drew conic 
 sections on the ground, and had mastered Euclid to the 3 2d 
 proposition before his father discovered it. Dryden revealed 
 his own steps, as well as those of many others, when he 
 wrote : 
 
 "What the child admired, 
 The youth endeavored, and the man acquired." 
 
 "We are not surprised," saj's a writer, "to hear from a 
 schoolfellow of the Chancellor Somers that he was a weakly 
 boy, who always had a book in his hand, and never looked 
 up at the play of his companions; to learn from his affec- 
 tionate biographer that Hammond, at Eton, sought oppor- 
 tunities of stealing away to say his prayers; to read that 
 Tournefort forsook his college class that he might search 
 for plants in the neighboring fields; or that Smeaton, in 
 petticoats, was discovered on the top of his father's bam, in 
 the act of fixing the model of a windmill which he had con- 
 structed. These early traits of character are such as we 
 expect to find in the cultivated lawyer who turned the eyes 
 of his age upon Milton; in the Christian whose life was one 
 varied strain of devout praise; in the naturalist who enriched 
 science by his discoveries; and in the engineer who built the 
 Eddystone lighthouse." 
 
 We are all able frequently to read a man's character with 
 reasonable accuracy by watching his actions and noting his 
 slightest tendencies. It is no more true of men than it is in 
 natural histor}', that -'the toad, ugly and venomous, wears 
 yet a precious jewel in its head." There is structural har- 
 mony in the whole physical man, as there is in the intel- 
 
102 THE GENIUS OF INDUSTliY. 
 
 lectual Nature does not deal in paradoxes; she coins men 
 of different metals, and puts her mint stamp upon them, that 
 they may pass current at their true \alue among the observ- 
 ant. Men of keen sight and judgment read their fellows as 
 they would read the open pages of a book. This faculty is 
 enjoyed by all leaders of men. 
 
 The proclivities of the mind may be strong though latent ; 
 and the greater in that case becomes the necessity for care- 
 ful inspection. It calls for the skill of the examiner. He 
 may search long before he concludes upon any special merit, 
 but there is a bonanza somewhere in every man. There is 
 no man who may not excel in some pursuit. Don't let ambi- 
 tion dictate it; don't seek a business because it is creditable. 
 Better be the king of tish peddlers than a blatant politician 
 who is searching after undying fame, and whose only con- 
 ception of success is office; who is too indolent to work; 
 who affects to be a servant of the people; whose poverty 
 forces him to li\e on bread and water between elections, and 
 •'sponge" on his friends during the canvass; a confirmed 
 mendicant, without energy or grace, whose friendship is 
 valueless, and whose name is Political Tramp. Whatever 
 nature intended 3'ou for, that be; and be proud that she 
 intended you for somethino-. It may be to run the biggest 
 trade in your communit}', or it may be to climb tarred rope; 
 but do it with all your might, and there's victory in it. 
 
 No man can be said to have a natural bias for a pursuit 
 he dislikes; and to learn to love it is a thing impossible. A 
 great work was never any thing short of a labor of love to 
 him that accomplished it. The sentiment, " Our wishes 
 are presentiments of our capabilities," is a truthful maxim, 
 and full of encouragement. If the reigning passion of the 
 mind can be gratified while obeying the duties of the pro- 
 
VIIOOSINQ A VOCATION. 103 
 
 fession, there will be found in it an incentive reaching far 
 toward success. Ihe very fact that }ou have a fondness 
 for the duties in that calling, is surety that j-ou will follow 
 it devotedl}'. Whenever the wishes become active, they 
 will arouse all the other forces, and demand that somethin<r 
 be done. \i a bo}- longs for a hand-saw and hatchet, he is 
 evidently not of the turn to take to belles let/res. You 
 may cram him with hie, Jicec, hoc, but he will onl}- make 
 one of those college 'professors that dare not look off his 
 text-book during recitation. Another may not be able to 
 saw a stick of wood off straight, and whines every time he 
 takes the cow to pasture, and yet lie on the floor for hours 
 at a stretch, and devour Plutarch and Gibbon. There are 
 many boys, who liked books and would have made brilliant 
 men in some of the educated pursuits, that have been lashed 
 for laziness, and driven to labors the}' scorned, until their 
 proclivities were all blunted, and have gone moping through 
 liJe broken-spirited and failures; and the neighbors testif}" 
 that they " always were worthless." The first step is to 
 give the inborn wishes of the boy or man an opportunit}' tc^ 
 assert themselves. 
 
 Every year an army of }oung men is sent forth from our 
 colleges who have exhausted their means in procuring what 
 is termed an education. They must now find some remu- 
 nerating employment to support them. They sought the 
 education with a distinct aim in view. Now, many are 
 striving to be contented with a meager c*lerkship, or turn 
 their attention to instructing in private or public schools. 
 I Kindreds rush to the city with the hope of becoming jour- 
 nalists, essayists or reporters. Visions of fame are still in 
 the foreground, but the wolf is at their door. They do not 
 seek the Press to proclaim what it would cost them their 
 
104 THE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 manhood to repress, as Lloyd Garrison did, but for bread 
 and l3utter. Perchance their culture makes it easy for them 
 to do this work. But at what a disadvantage they labor ! 
 They must write this matter up or thai down, according to 
 the arbitrary dictation of the proprietor. They must swear 
 by the oath of " the ring." Like the Garrick of the stage, 
 they must be ready to regret or rejoice to order. They are 
 not hewing a way for any vital principle. They can advo- 
 cate no reform unless it is popular so to do. They are 
 literary slaxes. " Their god is their belly." Can men hope 
 to build up an abiding interest on such a foundation.'' Cer- 
 tainly not. If you should ask these men they would freel}" 
 tell you so. Nay, many of them would laugh at }'ou tor 
 an unsophisticated ninn}\ 
 
 No! If inen would become eminent in any thing, let 
 them first of all establish their right to speak and to do in 
 independence. Let them labor with the hand or the head, 
 but busy themselves in the cultivation of their manhood, 
 bide their time and preser^•e an uncramped spirit, ready to 
 do battle, ready to make peace, but always upon conditions 
 honorable to all concerned. 
 
 The mass of educated men, for the time busied in some 
 humbler pursuit, scarce ever attain to the measure of their 
 original plan. Perhaps no class of men sO uniformly fail to 
 do what they have intended to, and what they have pre- 
 pared themselves for, as educated men. With some it is 
 because they are too ambitious of results, and hence early 
 become bankrupt of hope and retire from the field; while 
 with others capacity develops for but moderate success, and 
 so, failing alike of what they aim at and of what nature 
 fitted them for, they daunder about through life, as the 
 
CHOOSING A VOCATION. 105 
 
 Scotch phrase it, or become fixed as square pegs in round 
 holes. 
 
 It is advisable to get at the Hfe-emplo3inent as early as 
 possible. There is as great liability of drifting into a false 
 calling at fort}- as there is of blundering into it at twenty. 
 Changes are hazardous. Better to commence business at 
 middle age than to change vocations. No man ought to 
 attempt the second thing if it can be a^•oided. Ho\ve^■er, 
 if your first choice was unnatural and unprofitable, let it go as 
 soon as you are assured of this. But be cautious of your 
 mood when }-ou break holds. If despondent, stick till a 
 better spell prevails. Judgment is always biased when the 
 shadows gather about one. Any thing, Ihen, will seem 
 more inviting than what you are at. Follow your old 
 business, hopefully, while prospecting for the new. " A bird 
 in the hand is worth two in the bush." Take the matter of 
 change, then, into long, earnest consideration, and do not 
 act until, like Davy Crockett, you are " sure you are right, 
 then go ahead." 
 
 Let time be given to choice. Every scholar can master 
 one class of studies more easil}' than another. One will 
 take to grammer, rhetoric or history with greediness, leav- 
 ing his algebra and geometry, unconscioush', to the last 
 moment. Geology is loved by another, and he stores awa}- 
 every new specimen with increasing delight. One drops 
 Latin, but turns to natural philosophy only with redoubled 
 energ\-, making himself at home with e\-ery law which 
 governs motion. While another reads his ph3-siology over 
 once, closes the book, examines the ph}'sical structure of 
 ever\" animal he meets, doses the cat with pills of his own 
 compounding and because, by sheer accident., she dies, pla- 
 cidly improvises a dissecting-room out of the back kitchen. 
 
lOH THE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 and thus further engages in the pursuit of anatom}-. These 
 are the first efforts of nature as self-instruetor. They are 
 the inkhngs of the coming man. All will find, by referring 
 to their school da}s, some predominant inclination. Nor 
 are we going to concede to the reader that in his or his 
 friend's instance it was clear mischief. Mischief there may 
 have been, but that was misdirected energ}'. And often 
 when the preceptor played the Rogue's March, with a tattoo 
 of the ferrule over the shoulders, he would better have bee.i 
 engaged in studying " bent " and shaping it. Based, then, 
 on this bent, you will find a love for those after things in 
 life to which your predeterminations hold relationship. 
 
 Observe your inclinations from early j'outh. Whither 
 tend they.-^ Strong dislikes augur strong likes. What science 
 or art or handicraft do \ou take to most readily? Pay 
 but little attention to the ambitions of friends and relatives. 
 Pay a reverential regard to any one who seeks to show your 
 fitness for a pursuit. Do like L^man Beecher, " Study 
 Nature." Study surroundings. Study demand. Study to 
 till your sphere. And for this do not hurry. You can only 
 take Time itself b\' the forelock as you take time to do it. 
 But some men are quite unable to estimate their own ability. 
 They can no more gauge their capacities than they can hold 
 themselves out at arm's length by the coat collar, or lilt 
 themselves from the ground by the straps of their boots. 
 
 Such had better seek wise counsel, and Ibllow it. 
 
 Having chosen your occupation, begin at once to shape 
 yourself for it. Hold it fast in your mind's e3'e. Photo- 
 graph it on your heart. By day and by night meditate upon 
 its characteristics. Is it still at a distance .'^pursue it 
 through flood and flame. Let no poverty prevent; let nO' 
 care, let no charm, lead you to break faith with it. Speak- 
 
CHOOSING A VOCATION. 107 
 
 ing in a secular sense, it is your Jerusalem, toward which 
 you are to look and to pra}' thrice daily. It is your Caaba 
 stone, to which you are to make pilgrimage, and which you 
 are to kiss. 
 
 The choice made and labor once begun, the first great 
 struggle of life is over. You have already achieved what 
 half of mankind never achieve. Now seek for opportunity, 
 but be blind to obstacles, or, if 3-ou see them, kick them 
 aside. " Love laughs at locksmiths:" so, a soul full of set 
 purpose laughs at difficulties, and molds or creates circum- 
 stances to his need. 
 
 "When Joseph Wright, at the age of eighteen," says 
 Mother Rawlings, " decided to become a lawjer, he was 
 penniless and almost friendless. While obtaining an educa- 
 tion and studying for the law, he was com.pelled to earn his 
 bread. During Summer he worked in the brick\'ards, 
 reading early and late. After taking meals, he would 
 study until the hands were almost at the kiln, when he 
 would close his book and run to be there on time. In 
 Winter he attended school, and did odd jobs to pay his 
 board. In all his haixlships he never lost faith in his star. 
 Once, at the Spring exercises, when Wright had been 
 chosen to deliver an oration, the professor, after reading it, 
 decided it was not worthy of the occasion. Wright lelt 
 that to fail here was to wreck a life, and he determined to 
 speak, so informing the professor. On the rostrum, tf,at 
 night, among the other performers sat Wright, clad in 
 jeans and pale with determination. His speech was pro- 
 nounced the ablest of the evening. He became a successful 
 lawyer. The convention that first nominated him for Con- 
 gress met in the Court-House, the brick of which he had 
 off-borne, burned, and carried in a hod to the masons. He 
 
108 TUE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 afterward became Governor of Indiana. When Minister 
 to Berlin, his fellow-townsmen of Bloomington sent him two 
 bricks taken from the old Court-House. They were pre- 
 sented to him in the presence of diplomats and princes at a 
 levee. As he held the treasure in his hands, he exclaimed 
 that it was the humblest and yet the proudest moment of 
 his life." 
 
 Finally, it will take many years to reach the success you 
 wish, if you put your aim as high as you ought to put it. 
 They are the years of labor and waiting that try men's 
 souls. The genuine philosopher in life is the man that finds 
 in each duty done, each day's labor well performed, an all- 
 sufficient satisfaction and remuneration, and though he 
 never reach the objective pinnacle called success, is there- 
 with content. It is easy to lie in bed of mornings and 
 dream of glory; there is no difficulty while there to map 
 out a lite of activity and see yourself climbing to the top 
 round. But to turn out at five o'clock and work hard all 
 ■day tor j'ears, and distance every rival by simple upright- 
 ness and perseverance, is another thing. It is not strange 
 that many men when they come to essay this task, forsake 
 it after a few years for an easier place and less wages. 
 Especially if your calling is one where great eminence or 
 wealth may be obtained will you find advancement to be 
 slow of step. The bonanzas in the professions are like 
 those in the precious metals — it takes the longest and deep- 
 est digging to reach them. Having once placed your hand 
 on the plow, never look back unless failing health or an 
 event over which you have no control compel it. 
 
 Whatever your calling may be, do not atiect to despise 
 it. A man could with as good grace despise his mother as 
 hate the pursuit nature intended him for. Do not belittle 
 
CHOOSING A VOCATION. 109 
 
 your business by berating it in the presence of others. 
 There is a pecuHar relationship existing between a man 
 and his business, and the world soon comes to look on the 
 representative of the business in the same light that he 
 speaks of the business. Become impressed with the value 
 of your occupation. Stud}' its relationship to the various 
 departments of industry. Look upon it as an important 
 link in the chain. Make it a swivel if you can ; at any rate, 
 honor it. Remember, 3'ou have passed through espousals, 
 and are now wedded. Preserve your chastity with it; and 
 when you are blessed by its profits and its joys, welcome 
 them as a legitimate posteritj-. 
 
 With our democratic principles no man need hang down 
 his head because of humble pursuits. All people whose 
 respect is worth anything regard a man for himself and not 
 because of his family or profession. It is the man who 
 makes the business, and if any' undertaking has no 7iian 
 behind it, of how frail a texture is it! Broidered gold and 
 lace can not compensate for such lack. 
 
 " Worth makes the man. and want of it, the fellow ; 
 The rest is all but leather or prunella." 
 
 Cesare Borgia was a croziered prelate, but his life of 
 poisoning and plunder consigned him to the scorn of all 
 good men. Nero was one of Rome's emperors, but his 
 inhuman life singled him out as the representative fiend for 
 all coming ages. Caste is dying, and neither crowns nor 
 carriages can of themselves give dignity: the man must 
 dignify the deed. President Lincoln was often referred to 
 sneeringly by his rivals as "the rail-splitter," but his energy 
 and courage both as a boy and a man have done more to 
 inspire confidence in the bosoms of poor and friendless 
 youth than all the politicians whose aristocratic influence 
 
IIU 
 
 THE GENIUS OF INDUSTUY^ 
 
 has given them a seat in the parliaments of mankind. 
 Homer was a poor, wandering ballad-monger on the shores 
 of Greece, whose misfortunes were mollified b}' the verses 
 he poured forth from his soul. His music has floated on 
 every air, through each succeeding age, while his heroic 
 lines have inspired the great and enriched the literature of 
 nations. 
 
I 
 
 
 V 
 
I know that I am censured of some conceit of my ability or worth; but I 
 pray your Majesty impute it to my desire. — Lord Bacun to yames I. 
 
 One science only will one genius fit; 
 So wide is art, so narrow human wit. 
 
 The wise and active conquer difficulties 
 By daring to attempt them; sloth and folly 
 Shiver and shrink at sight of toil and danger, 
 And make the impossibility they fear. 
 
 — Rotve. 
 
 The sweat of industry would dry and die 
 
 But for the end it works to. — Slinksfeare. 
 
 Every one is the son of his own work. — Cervantes. 
 
 A necessary provision for success is an elevated and worthy aim. 
 
OST men desire to accomplish a creditable work. 
 
 They have respect for the approval of their fellows. 
 
 But this is not enough. A man must have his 
 own approval. The plaudits of the public are worth little 
 if he can not find applause when he turns within. No man 
 can afford to secure a result at the expense of his manhood, 
 no matter how rich it may be. The attainment of any 
 great end by unmanly means is not success. Nothing is 
 success for which you exchange your virtue or dignity. 
 Every aim must be worthy of you, and one of which you 
 are proud. 
 
 During the war for the independence of the colonies, it is 
 related that in one of the early battles, the British soldiers 
 opened fire on our troops without taking aim. This kind of 
 shooting may have been dictated by mercy, and may have 
 served to ameliorate the rigors of war, but for thinning the 
 ranks of a foe it proved ineffectual. Our intrepid general 
 ordered his men not to fire until they could see the whites 
 of the enemies' eyes. The result was, the advancing 
 column was cut down like grass. So it is in the struggle of 
 life. The man who aims with precision will do thorough 
 
114 rUE GENrUti OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 execution, while he who shoots at randprn rarely hits the 
 mark. 
 
 The desire for success is universal. Every man intends 
 to win. Every heart pants for victory. But, alas! the 
 masses only fire at the lump. They have no definite aim, 
 and ambition without this is misplaced, and one of the vani- 
 ties. Success is no nebulous affair; it is a specific result to 
 be attained. The acquirement of unusual proficiency in a 
 business, or the amassing of a large fortune, is termed suc- 
 cess. But such success depends upon special attention and 
 toil. People that labor loosely and at large do not often 
 become proficients. You must put a goal far ahead of 3'ou, 
 and cry with Paul, " I press toward the mark lor the prize of 
 my high calling." One physician will practice medicine for 
 thirty years without winning any distinction whatever, 
 simply because he makes nothing in his line a specialty; 
 whereas his rival, with no better education or opportunities, 
 having made typhoid fe\"er a careful study, acquires a repu- 
 tation the country over for his treatment of diseases; and 
 thus, in consequence of his special knowledge, does twice 
 the riding of his versatile friend. The carpenter who gives 
 his attention to weather-boarding acquires a skill that puts 
 him in great demand, not particularly as a weather-boarder, 
 but as a carpenter. Many men owe their failure to an eftbrt 
 to excel in every part of a wide occupation. The desire is 
 laudable but not advisable. Give attention to one depart- 
 ment at a time. It is a triumph to be the prince of horse- 
 shoers in your community, but to be but a fair smith in 
 everything is often to be a botch in the best thing. When 
 Cyrus W. Field gives his attention to a submarine cable, 
 pouring out the energies of a life-time upon it, there is a 
 hope of bringing the two worlds into instant communion. 
 
AIM. 115 
 
 And when Judge Fullerton assigns himself the task of 
 managing the witnesses the pubUc comes into possession of 
 facts he could ne\er gi\e them as a general law}er. 
 
 Determine, then, to become pre-eminent in at least one 
 branch of }'our profession, and let 3'our point of perfection 
 be placed as high as possible. The reaching of a high stand- 
 ard, of itself, lends wings to flight. With a heart full of 
 enthusiasm, strive to become the master of your calling, and 
 do in it and for it what no man has ever done before. God has 
 given you something to do which no other man can do as well. 
 Seek out that thing, and do it. Never strive after success, as 
 such. To work simply for glory is frivolous and fatal. No man 
 was ever a great man who plotted to be one. To be sure there 
 is a glory in being, but it is only as it comes to us incidentall}'. 
 A man must do in order to be, and leave glorj- to take care of 
 itself. Greatness attaches, in some degree, to ever}' duty well 
 done, but never to trappings and gaud}' paraphernalia. In 
 the formation of greatness the soul is so full of the noble 
 promptings of duty it has no place for false expectations; 
 borne on by the impulses of responsibility and love, it finds 
 its sufficiency in satisfying its necessities. Take away this 
 element, this motive to action, and man would never do a 
 great deed. Hence it is, many of the world's really great 
 men have been more surprised at being called great than 
 their friends. It was not the occasion that made them great. 
 They met the demands of the occasion and were therefore 
 great; Demosthenes did not think of becoming the world's 
 greatest orator when he practiced for twelve years with 
 pebbles in his mouth; he only thought of o\"crcoming an 
 impediment in his speech and resisting Philip of Macedon. 
 Patrick Henr}' did not dream of greatness when he made 
 his speech in the old court-house in Virginia; he only thought 
 
116 THE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 of defending the people from the unrighteous encroachments 
 of the clergy. Shakespeare wrote his plays, not for future 
 greatness, but that he might be able to meet his grocer's 
 bills. Think you Hannibal was planning for glory when he 
 tied torches to the bullocks' horns, and sent them bellowing 
 through the Roman camp, dismaying and routing their 
 whole army? No! he only thought of getting his little 
 band out of that valley of death. 
 
 Men differ in mind, as the}- do in bod}', and no power can 
 ever make them equals. Each is capable of the greatest 
 prominence in his sphere. Yon little mound, put in contrast 
 with the surrounding plain, is just as great as the loftiest 
 peak of the Andes in the midst of neighboring mountains. 
 Small men working in their sphere are just as great as the 
 mightiest working in theirs. It is only when they change 
 positions that the difference becomes offensive. It is only 
 when little men have on big men's boots that they stumble 
 and fall in the race of life. The greatest possibilities in your 
 sphere, then, are open to you, but only in yours. So we 
 must conclude, as an able writer has said: "It is no man's 
 business whether he has genius or not ; work he must, what- 
 ever he is, but quietly and steadily, and the natural and 
 unforced results of such work will be always the things that 
 God meant him to do, and will be his best. No agonies or 
 heart-rendingswill enable him to do any better! If he be 
 a great man, they will be great things; if he be a small man, 
 small things; but always, if thus peacefully done, good and 
 right; always, if restlessly and ambitiously done, false, hollow 
 and despicable." 
 
 Cotton has said that examples demonstrate the possibility 
 of success. The life of Bernard Palissy, the potter, is an 
 illustration of one who had an aim within his sphere, and 
 
AIM. 117 
 
 who, without flagging, pursued it to the very highest results. 
 The parents of Palissy were too poor to give him any educa- 
 tion. " I had no books," he writes, " other than heaven and 
 earth, which are open to all." After wandering over the 
 continent for some ten years as a worker in glassware, he 
 married and settled in the little town of Saintes. His family 
 increased more rapidly than his earnings, and necessity called 
 on him for greater exertions. He extended his operations 
 to earthenware; yet of its manufacture he was wholly ignor- 
 ant, for he had never seen earth baked, and only had ingenuity, 
 hope and perseverance for his helpers. 
 
 Seeing one of Lucca della Robbia's cups, his whole nature 
 was wrought into an intense passion. His art needed just such 
 a glaze as that. His whole life became stirred with a reso- 
 lution to create that enamel. The necessities of his family 
 inflamed his new-born ardor. But that family with his 
 unhatched project before him became a millstone about his 
 neck anchoring him to the village and to a tedious fate. At 
 first he could merely guess the materials of which the enamel 
 was composed, and he proceeded to try all manner of experi- 
 ments to ascertain what they really were. He pounded all 
 the substances which he supposed were likely to produce it. 
 Then he bought common earthen pots, broke them into 
 pieces, and spreading his compounds over them, subjected 
 them to the heat of a furnace which he erected for the pur- 
 pose of baking them. His experiments failed, and the 
 results were broken pots and a waste of fuel, drugs, time and 
 labor. Women do not always readily sympathize with 
 experiments whose only tangible effect is to dissipate the 
 means of buying clothes and food for their children; and 
 Palissy's wife, however dutiful in other respects, could not 
 be reconciled to the purchase of more earthenware pots, 
 
118 THE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 which seemed to her to be bought only to be broken Yet 
 she must needs submit; for PaHssy had become thoroughly 
 possessed by the determination to master the secret of the 
 enamel, and would not leave it alone. 
 
 Months and years were spent in these experiments, until 
 finall}' Palissy was no longer able to meet even the small 
 expense of his own furnace. But his determination increased 
 as his money vanished, and he prepared four hundred more 
 pieces, and carried them to a tile furnace five miles awav. 
 After the burning he went to see the pieces taken out, and 
 every piece was again a failure. Sad but undaunted, he 
 says, " I now resolved to begin afresh." 
 
 For four years longer he pursued his experiments. Hav- 
 ing in the mean time been called for several months to 
 assist in measuring the "salt marshes," he was unusually 
 hopeful, for he now had means with which to buy chemicals. 
 But once more he was on the verge of abject poverty. He 
 now resolved to make one last great effort, and began by 
 breaking more pots than ever. Hundreds of pieces of pot- 
 tery covered with his compounds were now taken to the 
 furnace, and there he remained to watch the baking himself. 
 For Ibur hours he watched; and then the furnace was 
 opened. Of the hundreds of pieces consigned to the fire, on 
 one the compound had melted. It was taken out to cool. 
 As it hardened it grew white and polished ! The one piece 
 of potsherd was covered with an enamel which was singu- 
 larly beautiful. His weary eyes lit up with fresh hope. 
 But the prize was far from won. This partial success of 
 the intended last effort lured him on to other experiments 
 and failures. 
 
 Feelinc that victorv was near at hand, he resolved to 
 build a furnace near his dwelling. He did so with his own 
 
AIM. 119 
 
 hands, carrying on his back tlie brick from tlie brick-field. 
 Another 3-ear passed, and the furnace was read}'. Palissy 
 had in the mean time prepared a number of clay vessels for 
 the laying on of the enamel. After baking the)' were cov- 
 ered with the enamel compound and placed in the furnace 
 for the crucial experiment. For months he had been 
 gathering fuel for the final effort, and he thought there was 
 enough. His family reproached him lor his recklessness, 
 and his neighbors cried shame upon him for his obstinate 
 folly. But, acknowledging no criterion but success, he once 
 more lit the fire. All day he sat by the furnace, feeding it 
 with fuel. 2VII through the long night he sat there, watch- 
 ing and feeding. Yet the enamel did not melt. The sun 
 rose, and still he sat with eager e}-es. His wife brought 
 him a portion of the scanty morning meal — for he would 
 not stir from the furnace, into which he continued from time 
 to time to heave more fuel. The second day passed, and 
 still the enamel did not melt. The sun set, and another 
 night passed. The pale, haggard, unshorn, baffled yet not 
 beaten Palissy sat by his furnace eagerly looking for the 
 melting of the enamel. A third day and night passed — -a 
 fourth, a fifth, and even a sixth — 3'es, for six long da3-s and 
 nights did the unconquerable Palissy watch and toil, fight- 
 ing against hope; and still the enamel would not melt. 
 
 It then occurred to him that there might be some defect 
 in the materials for the enamel — perhaps something wanting 
 in the flux; so he set to work to pound and compound fresh 
 materials for a new experiment. Thus two or three weeks 
 passed. But how to bu}- more pots.'' — for those which he 
 had made with his own hands for the purposes of the first 
 experiment were, by long baking, irretrievably spoiled for 
 the purposes of a second. His money was now all spent; 
 
V20 THE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 but he could borrow. His character was still good, though 
 his wife and the neighbors thought him foolishly wasting 
 his means in futile experiments. Nevertheless he suc- 
 ceeded. He borrowed sufficient from a friend to enable 
 him to buy more fuel and more pots, and he was again 
 ready for a further experiment. The pots were covered 
 with the new compound, placed in the furnace, and the fire 
 was again lit. 
 
 It was the last and most desperate experiment of the 
 whole. The fire blazed up; the heat became intense; but 
 still the enamel did not melt. The fuel began to run short! 
 How to keep up the fire.'' There were the garden palings; 
 these would burn. They must be sacrificed rather than 
 that the great experiment should fail. The garden palings 
 were pulled up and cast into the furnace. They were 
 burned in vain! The enamel had not 3-et melted. Ten 
 minutes' more heat might do. Fuel must be had, no mat- 
 ter what the cost. There remained the household furniture 
 and shelving. He rushed into the house, seized bedstead 
 and chairs and crushed them to kindlings. His wife and 
 children sat down in tears and despair. Even their little 
 home was going. Still the enamel did not melt. Another 
 wrenching of timber was heard inside the house: the shelves 
 W^ere being torn down and hurled after the furniture into 
 the fire. Wife and children then rushed from the house, 
 and went frantically through the town, cr3'ing that Palissy 
 had gone mad and was breaking up his very furniture for 
 firewood. 
 
 For an entire month his shirt had not been off his back, 
 and he was utterly worn out with toil, anxiety, watching, 
 and want of food. He was in debt and seemed on the verge 
 of ruin. But he had at last triumphed. The last great 
 
AIM. 121 
 
 burst of heat had melted the compound. When the furnace 
 cooled, there stood the common clay jars, which had been 
 put in brown, glittering with white enamel. 
 
 Ten years he had patiently borne the scorn and reproach 
 of his friends and family. Ten years had he spent battling 
 with poverty, prosecuting an aim within his sphere — seeking 
 for perfection m one branch of his art. Yet he toiled 
 through eight years more of experimental plodding before 
 he was complete master of glazing. Every mishap was a 
 fresh lesson to him, teaching him something new about the 
 nature of enamels, the qualities of argillaceous earths, the 
 tempering of clays, and the construction and management 
 of furnaces. Concerning his struggles during these last 
 years he writes: "Nevertheless, hope continued to inspire 
 me, aiid I held on manfully. Sometimes, when visitors 
 called, I entertained them with pleasantry, while I was really 
 
 sad at heart Worst of all the sufTerings I had to 
 
 endure, were the mockeries and persecutions of those of m}' 
 own household, who were so unreasonable as to expect me 
 to execute work without the means of doing so. For years 
 ni}' furnaces were without any covering or protection, and 
 while attending them I have been for nights at the mercy 
 of the wind and the rain, without help or consolation, save 
 it might be the wailing of cats on the one side and the howl- 
 ing of dogs on the other. Sometimes the tempest would 
 beat so furiously against the furnaces that I was compelled 
 to leave them and seek shelter within doors. Drenched by 
 rain, and in no better plight than if I had been dragged 
 through mire, I have gone to lie down at midnight or at 
 daybreak, stumbling into the house without a light, and 
 reeling from one side to another as if I had been drunken, 
 but really weary with watching and filled with sorrow at 
 
122 THE GENIUS OF INDUSTUT. 
 
 the loss of my labor after such long toiling. But alas ! my 
 home proved no refuge; for, drenched and besmeared as I 
 was, I found in my chamber a second persecution worse 
 than the first, which makes me even now marvel that I was 
 not utterly consumed by my many sorrows." 
 
 At this stage of his affairs, Palissy became melancholy 
 and almost hopeless, and seems to have all but broken down. 
 He wandered gloomily about the fields near Saintes, his 
 clothes hanging in tatters, and himself worn to a skeleton. 
 In a curious passage in his writings he describes how that 
 the calves of his legs had disappeared, and were no longer 
 able with the help of garters to hold up his stockings, which 
 fell about his heels when he walked. 
 
 Palissy lived to a ripe old age crowned with wealth and 
 honor. lie was appointed Inventor of Rustic Figulines to 
 the King, and lodged in the Tuileries. He wrote on agri- 
 culture and natural histor}^ and became celebrated as a 
 religious disputant after he was seventy years of age. A 
 man of rare virtues and inflexible rectitude, possessed of 
 extraordinary endurance and continuity of aim, his life was 
 made great by heroic labor. His was a literal application 
 of Locke's principle, that " he that sets out on weak legs 
 will not only go further, but grow stronger, too, than one 
 who, with a vigorous constitution and firm limbs, onl}- sits 
 still." 
 
 A man may have the most dazzling talents, but if they 
 are not directed toward a special result, he will accomplish 
 nothing. The opinion is prevalent that greatness disdains 
 the humble, toilsome path that leads to excellence. Indolent 
 schoolboys and dissipated college lads are in the habit of 
 quoting the example of Henry Clay and Daniel Webster to 
 justify their course, and of attempting to pi-ove b}- a curious 
 
AIM. 123 
 
 kind of logic that they are giving indications of genius. 
 These men were laborious students in their later 3-ears. Clay 
 alwa3's expressed remorse at his early neglect, although it 
 would be difficult to see how he could have been more studi- 
 ous; while Webster never ceased to regret his early indiffer- 
 ence. Even Sir Walter Scott, a recognized genius, whose 
 extensive writings and comprehensive sentences would 
 indicate a reserve of power that was inexhaustible, speaks 
 in his personal history with a voice of warning against this 
 fatal misapprehension. He says: " If it should ever fall to 
 the lot of youth to peruse these pages, let such readers 
 remember that it is with the deepest regret that I recollect 
 in my manhood the opportunities of learning which I neg- 
 lected in my youth; that through every part of my literary 
 career I have felt pinched and hampered by my own igno- 
 rance, and would this moment give half of the reputation I 
 have had the good fortune to acquire, if bv so doing I could 
 rest the remaining part upon a sound foundation of learning 
 and science." 
 
 In fact, the majority of our best men have felt cause to 
 regret the daj's when they thought there was no need of 
 application. A recent writer, himself a man of brilliant 
 genius, says: ."I produce a work, and men cr}- 'genius.' 
 I can admit no genius in it. I decide to execute a work, 
 and at once bring my whole soul to the task ; after days and 
 months of toil — toil such as the most of men will not give 
 to an object, or do not care to give, I bring forth the scantv 
 result, and the}' say, another great feat of genius." There 
 is a common misapprehension concerning education. It is 
 generall}' thought to mean an infusing into the mind of a 
 certain amount of information, classical, mathematical, tech- 
 nical, or historical. But this is to confound the end with 
 
124 THE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 the means. Every kind of information extant may have a 
 tendency to educate, but of itself can not constitute the 
 work. That man is educated who, by whatever means, has 
 made his powers available to an end ; and he is best educated 
 who can make them effective to reach the best end. 
 
 We have Fox, the child of an indulgent father, rising 
 despite luxury, gaming and dissoluteness, into the most bril- 
 liant debater the world ever saw; Burke, with ordinary 
 advantages, distancing all competitors; Erskine, the ensign- 
 bearer, meeting no peer before a jury; Chatham, bred in 
 affluence, bearing every thing before him by the resistless 
 storm of his eloquence; Lincoln, the rail-splitter, putting at 
 bay the mighty Douglas ; and Fred. Douglass, the eloquent 
 African, rising in spite of ignominy of birth and race-preju- 
 dice; all of unequal education and different environments, 
 now ranking as peers, side by side. Each had caught the 
 secret of making his powers available, and each attained a 
 rare destiny. 
 
 Only men of lofty aim are permitted to accomplish great 
 works. Nothing so fires the soul to energy as the possibility 
 of unusual results. Ablaze with such a faith, Louis Napo- 
 leon ventured his desperate coiip-d^-etat., and found himself 
 Emperor of France. Poverty and misfortlane sometimes 
 become the very talisman of success. Byron's resolve was 
 never taken until he overheard a schoolmate call him " club- 
 foot." Then and there he resolved to outstrip that boy in 
 the race of life. Nelson was little and lame and nervous. 
 On coming down to the vessel after his appointment as 
 captain, the sailors exclaimed, "What! Make a captain 
 out ot that little fellow?" Nelson's sensitive nature was 
 wounded, and he determined to show himself worthy of the 
 
Am. 125 
 
 office. It matters little, so far as the final result is concerned, 
 what prompts the setting up of an aim. Like Byron, 
 
 " Many a soul sublime 
 Has felt the influence of malignant star, 
 And waged with fortune an eternal war." 
 
 That aim is the noblest and most likely to succeed which 
 is felt to be a necessity in the calling, and then is labored 
 unto for very love of it. A conviction that the time had 
 come to supplant the philosophy of Aristotle by a more 
 rational statement of things, and that the world demanded 
 such a work, produced Bacon's Novum Oro^anoti. Nothing 
 short of a love that burned to enthusiasm caused Michael 
 Angelo to toil so prodigiously, embellishing the walls of 
 the Vatican with a touch almost divine. When asked why 
 he did not marry, he replied, " Painting is my wife, and my 
 works are m}' children." Hermit Peter felt that the inter- 
 ests of his religion and the honor of his God demanded that 
 the Holy Sepulcher should be fi^eed fi^om the domination of 
 the Turk. To this labor he consecrated himself — a most 
 stupendous undertaking for a recluse — traveling for months 
 and years in poverty and under censure. The derision of 
 the populace and the daily obstacles with which he had to 
 contend, only served to increase his faith in his mission. He 
 felt he was to be the liberator of Jerusalem. When men 
 said, " Even if successful, no benefit can be derived," his 
 answer was, "It is a religious duty." When they cried, 
 "Impossible," he met that with the burning reply, "No 
 right work is impossible." His zeal drove over every oppo- 
 sition, until his plea rang through every palace, house and 
 hamlet on the continent. He conquered Europe in order to 
 conquer Islam. For three hundred years, nations vied with 
 each other in furnishing blood for the slaughter. The cru- 
 
126 THE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 sade failed to accomplish Peter's intention, but he produced 
 the mightiest uprising recorded in the annals of history.. 
 
 No class of men so uniformly fail as they who sit in the 
 sunshine of wealth. Being hedged about with the elements 
 out of which opportunities spring, they ought to be the most 
 successful; but luxur}' enervates, and her children are so 
 pampered the}- die before the}' learn their uselessness. It is 
 far better to perish in poverty than flourish in indolence. 
 The very fact that bread and butter have to be obtained by 
 the sweat of the brow, tends to increase acti\'ity and to give 
 direction to an honest aim. A great fortune is often a great 
 misfortune. This is speciall}' true if it fall into the hands of 
 the 30ung. Nothing blinds the aim so much as a father's 
 hea\'3' bank account. Hugh Miller thought manual labor 
 was necessary, in the very nature of things, to de\-elop and 
 sustain a high purpose. He may not be entirel}^ correct, 
 but, at any rate, the wealthy young man is fortunate if he 
 realizes that all his possibilities are to be wrought out b}- his 
 own exertions. Stall-fed greatness is like]}- to make bloats. 
 Money lavished 011 j'ou is in ^'ain, unless you use aright the 
 opportunities it purchases. Friends to build scaffold about 
 you, and spouting editors to cry up your magnificence, only 
 make it more certain that lor you destiny is dead. Great- 
 ness is not something poured into a man; it is something he 
 pours out. All the means to reach a desired end may be 
 about 3'ou, but if 3'ou go to it on crutches you will not be 
 able to stand when you arrive. The school-teacher who 
 impresses his pupils with the great practical truth that all 
 the elements they can utilize in the struggle of life are 
 within themselves, and that all assistance be3-ond a certain 
 limit enfeebles them, is worth a thousand dollars a }'ear 
 more to the patrons of the school than the teacher who con- 
 
AIM. 127 
 
 fines himself to the customary hum-drum of text-books. 
 The life of Cicero had been rendered aimless by the dissipa- 
 tion of wealth, and his eftbrts as a student neutralized by 
 the flattery of friends, who maintained him to be the 
 greatest orator of the world. When he matched sentences 
 with one of the old senators, he saw his failure. Forthwith 
 he left Rome, and entered the school of ^Eschines. For 
 man}' months he kept aloof from the public in the steady 
 pursuit of rhetorical power. Unweariedly he toiled, mount- 
 ing, step by step, to the summit of his profession, till now, 
 on his return to Rome, by common consent he became 
 monarch of the Forum. The young man who spends his 
 time in bewailing his fate in this open and industrious world 
 is a ninny; and not much better is he who pins himself to 
 the skirts of an illustrious ancestry. What would the younger 
 Pitt have been without tireless drudgery.? Or what the 
 jounger Hood or Hawthorne.? Let each rely on his own 
 resources. Let him whet his sword on the stones of oppo- 
 sition; then will he with deft stroke hew down every foe. 
 
 In his recently published " Life and Letters," Lord 
 Macaula}' says, " I am now near the end of Tom Moore's 
 'Life of Byron.' It is a sad book. Poor fellow! Yet he was a 
 bad fellow and horribly aflected. But then what that could 
 spoil a character was wanting.? Had I at twent3'-four had 
 a peerage, and been the most popular poet and the most 
 successful Lovelace of the day, I should have been as great 
 a coxcomb and possibly as bad a man." 
 
 Some one, whose mind ran on love, says, 
 
 "Faint heart never won fair lady;" 
 
 and so it is, that the man who, through fear of failure, has 
 
 faltered while contemplating life in its most fruitful stage, 
 
 can scarce pick up courage ever after to attempt any thing 
 
128 THE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 durable. He sees what others undergo in order to reach 
 excellence, and thinks the cost too great. The summer is 
 too long and dry and heated before the harvest. But it is 
 written in the irrevocable laws, " He that would be a master 
 must be a slave." And it is this slavery, man}' otherwise 
 clever men detest. Their apology is that this, that and the 
 other is not their forte. And the this, that and the other is, 
 of course, the drudgery. Canning and Phillips, than whom 
 none of the '' few illustrious" were brighter, found it impossi- 
 ble to descend to menial toil. Betrayed by their flashing 
 declamation, they were content to excite admiration when 
 they should have been striving to carry home conviction. 
 Their statesmanship and legal lore were of an equall}' 
 unpractical character. Of the former, Pitt said, " He might 
 have achieved any thing if he had gone straight to the 
 mark." He closed his fitful career as he commenced it, as 
 voluble as a fountain but as empty as a drum. On the 
 other side of the house sat Fox, Here was a man of definite 
 aim. When but a weaver's boy he was courageous enough 
 to demand a portion of his time for mental pursuits. He 
 did not grant that, to submit to an apprenticeship entitled 
 the proprietor to a wholesale interest in his brains and blood. 
 There was something else to live for besides weaving cloth. 
 He was to control men and measures, and early in life he 
 asserted his right to so fit himself. Did not Randon, the 
 drummer-boy, drink at this Pierian spring when he resolved 
 to be a more useful soldier, and so informed his comrades.^ 
 He bore to his profession a deep devotion and a singleness 
 of purpose which was rewarded, at last, by placing him in 
 the French Cabinet, as Minister of War. And now, to-day, 
 as his portrait hangs in the gallery at Versailles, with his 
 hand resting on his drum, loft}' thoughts are inspired in the 
 
AIM. 129 
 
 minds of many a soldier as to valorous deeds yet to be 
 done and heights yet to be climbed. 
 
 When John C. Calhoun was a student at Yale College his 
 energetic habits called out the question from his companions, 
 what the necessity for it? "Why, sii'," he answered, "I 
 am forced to make the best of my time that I may acquit 
 myself creditably when in Congress.''' This caused a roar 
 of laughter. " Do you doubt it,"' he vehementh" continued; 
 " I assure you if I were not convinced of my ability to reach 
 the National Capital as a representative within the next 
 three years, I would quit college this very day." 
 
 Place your a in high, then. Fix your e3e firmly on it 
 and instantly begin }our task. You ma\' not accomplish all 
 you desire, but so intentioned, you will achie\"e man\- noble 
 things. Do not despise hindrances, but anticipate them. 
 Never sufler yourself to be surprised and chagrined by dis- 
 appointments. As Dewey says, " The plow and the harrow 
 will break in the field; the tire will part from the wheel, or 
 the horse will cast his shoe by the way; the thread will slip 
 from the needle; the garments we wear will not exactly fit; 
 a certain pertinacious tendenc}- to disorder or discomfort 
 will meet us at every turn; the course of nothing will run 
 smooth." Be prepared for all these things, then, and be 
 patient. Hindrances are God's helps. He that hath no 
 hindrance hath no mission, and he that hath no mission has 
 no manhood. What you are to do is to " Overturn, Over- 
 turn, Overturn," until }-ou be crowned the victor of life. 
 
¥/||.J.-f^pV/^H. 
 
 The world is a nettle; disturb It, it stings; 
 GraSD it firmly, it stings not. One of two things, 
 If you would not be stung, it behooves you to settle: 
 Avoid it, or crush it. * 
 
 —0'j.vn Meredith. 
 
 The truest wisdom is a resolute determination. — Xapolcon. 
 
 This is the riddle of existence — read it. — Wcrncy. 
 
 Let the free, reasonable Will which dwells in us, as in our holy of holies, 
 be indeed free, and obeyed like a divinity, as is its right and its effort. — 
 Carlylc. 
 
 "I came; I saw; I conquered." 
 
^pw^K 
 
 ONDROUS is the nature of the will! By the 
 decision of the Deity, it is as sovereign in the 
 creature as in the Creator. Every where and 
 always it is the province of will to designate and direct its 
 own acts. True, there are powers that affect the will — 
 motives, such as 'counsel, reason, desire, or passion — and yet, 
 such is its autocratic nature, it often pushes every thing aside 
 and acts independently of all. 
 
 Will-power is indispensable to success; no greatness is 
 attained without it. A superior measure of it is worth more 
 to one than the most opulent gifts of genius. Some of the 
 most potent spirits that ever peered through flesh have been 
 rendered effete and useless for lack of this one element. To 
 the man of vigorous wills there are few impossibilities. 
 Obstructions melt before his fiat like spring snowflakes. 
 There is a coarse, iron strength in his movement that breaks 
 its way like an elephant in a jungle. His " no " falls on you 
 like a thunderbolt, while his "yes" is as a quick whistle to 
 clear the wa}- for the engine. You feel that this man is no 
 food for sloth or snail. This, you say, is virility with a sur- 
 plus. The man is made of better stufl' than the events and 
 
132 • THE GENIUS OP INDUSTUY. 
 
 things he encounters. He is, as Emerson would say, a 
 causaiionisi. Power flows from him like a ri\"er. 
 
 The man who sa3-s, "I'll find a way or make one," gener- 
 ally finds a way. It was quite characteristic of the old 
 Scandinavians that their crest should bear a god with a 
 hammer in his hand. The speech of one Norseman gives 
 the spirit of all the Norsemen of that day: "I believe 
 neither in idols nor demons," said he. " I put my sole trust 
 in my own strength of body and soul." Impediments are 
 often but the goblins of our own imagination. When we 
 insist upon a surrender we find no one to answer. We 
 should have searched within. Let action be enstamped with 
 emphasis. It is a starving process to chew the husk of 
 defeat and apathy when we might pluck' the fruit of con- 
 quering endea^■or. 
 
 When we observe how little genius has performed, in 
 comparison with what we have been taught to expect of it, 
 and how far mediocrity has surpassed our expectations, we 
 are forced to conclude that a great share of man's strength 
 lies in his indomitable determination. Lafayette twice had 
 it in his power to save France from the throes of civil war, 
 but so singularly infirm of purpose was he that all his pat- 
 riotism eflervesced in manifestoes. No heaven-born inspira- 
 tion lit up the pages of Buffon or Southey. No great genius 
 drove Burke to the front rank of English statesmen. Every 
 inch of headway made by Disraeli was by sheer force 
 of will. It was thus Cyrus W. Field laid the cable ; thus 
 Newton conquered the heavens, and thus Frederick attained 
 unto the leadership of the European kings. It was a will 
 that would admit no hand to rise between it and its cher- 
 ished object, and a soul that would not spare itself in the 
 most toilsome drudgery. 
 
WILL-POWER. 133 
 
 Unusual talents have ne\er been ascribed to Washington, 
 but he had that whicli was more eflective — will-power and 
 self-assertion. They won for his people the prize of every 
 patriot's ambition — a free country. Without these neither 
 the eloquence of Patrick Henry, the gifted pen of Tom 
 Paine, nor all the variet}' of Franklin's genius could conquer 
 it. The most hero-worshiping of the coming ages will not 
 ascribe brilliancy to General Grant ; but they will record for 
 him a coolness of head and inflexibility of purpose that 
 would win his end if it took all summer. They may grant 
 brilliancy to McClellan; intrepidity to Sherman; but the 
 awful force of character that finds a way or makes it, will 
 be given to Grant. 
 
 There is a broad difference between mere wishes and 
 desires, and the intrepid force that carries one triumphantly 
 over every opposition. This wishing and expecting — this 
 " gold-blossom " age of 3-oung men — must be got beyond 
 before they come to the la3-er of methl that makes man- 
 hood. How many are deceived into accepting these flashier 
 metals for the sterner stuff" of life. " When a purpose 
 is once formed it must be carried out with alacrity and 
 without swerving." A man needs to feel about a thing he 
 desires to do, as did Byron, whose soul was being consumed 
 by his ambition to be a great poet. " I must write," he 
 said, " or I would go mad." When a desire swells up in the 
 soul until it must out into action or the man is in danger, he 
 is then prepared to accomplish some noble work. Will- 
 power is never fully aroused from its lair until such a fine 
 frenzy has seized upon the man. 
 
 A man of weak will can never be a great man. He may 
 be surrounded by wealth, and bolstered by inherited posi- 
 tion, as Charles II, but he can never be great. Greatness is 
 
134 TEE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 within. To how high a degree will-power may be culti- 
 vated remains a problem. But it can be cultivated to 
 a respectable standard. One of the most pitjable objects in 
 life is a man who has come to the conclusion that he can not 
 will. His destiny is an elected failure; his character is 
 broken; every man becomes his potter, and he is every 
 man's clay. But no man need despair because his resolutions 
 have thus far appeared weak. Some of the most frail and 
 vacillating of men, like Charles XII of Sweden, have, when 
 awful necessity presented its visage, thrown ofi' their former 
 selves and risen into characters of steel. 
 
 It is hard to tell the difference between a poor vessel and 
 a good one in fair weather; but when the storm comes 
 it will soon make known to the passengers the worth of 
 their craft. So, while one has father, or uncle, or friends to 
 clear his path of every obstacle and help him carry his load, 
 the force of his character is not known. When, however, 
 he is left to help himself, and the waves of competition begin 
 to crush in his sides, he will manifest his strength or weak- 
 ness. HoweAcr feeble the will may have appeared at 
 former times, the realization that he must now rely on self, 
 becomes a bulwark of strength. And the character is 
 a frail one indeed that is not revolutionized by this new 
 order of things, and does not signalize it by passing into a 
 nobler life. 
 
 The man whose will-power is not marked, or is undevel- 
 oped, will often fiijd a saving virtue in his pride of character. 
 Nothing can sting some men into unconquerable determina- 
 tion sooner than outraged pride. Men of vast capabilities 
 are often like the elephant, which trudges quietly along the 
 way with its head down, willing to take second best in 
 every thing until somebody insults him; then he wakes up, 
 
WILLPOWER. 135 
 
 and one blow sends the insulter to the dust. So these 
 humble-minded giants, under the lash of pride, call up the 
 latent powers of their natures, and at once become the lords 
 of their fellows. A taunt sent Byron on his travels, and 
 made him a great poet; and a similar thing spurred Nelson 
 to be the hero of Trafalgar. 
 
 After all the other quickening powers have exhausted 
 themselves, failure has perhaps been the most potent of all 
 causes in developing force of character. It seems strange 
 that the materials for success are oftener molded out 
 of disaster than triumph. Dr. Holland wrote in Bitter- 
 
 Sweet : 
 
 " Life evermore is fed on death, 
 In earth, or air, or sky: 
 
 That a rose may breathe its breath, 
 Something must die." 
 So it is with man}' men — that they may live, they must die ; 
 that they may learn how to triumph, they must serve 
 an apprenticeship at defeat. Robespierre failed so egre- 
 giously in his first speech that his friends counseled him to 
 retire from the rostrum. Indeed, after repeated efforts, his 
 failures were so disheartening that it was said there was 
 " not another Frenchmen but would have committed 
 suicide." Robespierre felt the weight of his situation deeply; 
 his cheeks became pale, his eye lost its luster, and he was 
 well nigh thrown into a fever; but with each failure, as his 
 pulse and reputation went down, his determination went up, 
 and it is doubtful, if he had not possessed the " humiliation 
 of confused ideas " and a hesitating tongue, whether he 
 would have risen to the leadership of the National Assembly 
 of France. 
 
 The world's most famous generals have not been the most 
 uniformly victorious. Clive was not; Washington was not; 
 
136 THE GENIUS OF INDUSTUY. 
 
 neither was Caesar. Blucher lost nine battles out of ten; 
 but his marvelous energies rose superior to disaster, and his 
 sullen phalanx presented to the victorious enemy a more 
 deadly front on the morrow than ever before. Suwarrow, 
 that intrepid little soul of Russia, who kicked the silk 
 upholster}' out of his room in Berlin, and ordered the courtiers 
 to bring him some straw and a blanket for his bed, suffered 
 vast numbers of defeats, but alwa}'s pro\"ed himself a greater 
 general, than his victor, for he conquered his misfortunes. 
 To one that failed in life and complained of it, he said: 
 "You can but half will." There is no such word as failure 
 in the vocabulary of the men whose determination rises in 
 proportion to the extent of their disasters. 
 
 But we are now to notice a rout in which there is neither 
 promise nor possibility of victor}', though the genius of a 
 Blucher or a Suwarrow be present to supervise it. We 
 refer to the destruction of the will-power by stimulants. 
 Not until lately has it been prominently enforced b}' our 
 physiologists that all volition whatsoever is reduced to a con- 
 dition of paralysis by the chronic use of intoxicants. To 
 sustain and exhibit this fearful fact we quote from no less an 
 authority than Carpenter. This author avers that " it is per- 
 fectly clear that this disturbance of purely psychical action, 
 affecting not merely what may be regarded as the functions 
 of the brain, but the exercise of that attribute ■ of man's 
 nature which seems most strongl}- indicative of a power 
 beyond and above it, is produced by agencies purely phy- 
 sical. For it is not only that the balance between the auto- 
 matic activity of the brain and the directing and controlling 
 power of the will is disturbed by the exaltation of the for- 
 mer, so as to give it a predominance o\er the latter. On 
 the contrary, the absolute -weakening of volitional control is 
 
WILL-POWEIi. 137 
 
 clearly a primary effect of these agencies: being as strongly 
 manifested when the automatic activity (as often happens) 
 is reduced, as when it is augmented. And this weak- 
 ening is still more obvious when, not merely the quality of 
 the blood, but the nutrition of the brain, lias been deterior- 
 ated by the prolonged action of ' nervine stimulants ; ' the 
 will becoming, as it were, paralyzed, so that //le mental pow- 
 ers are not under its command for any exertion ivhatever^ 
 while even its controlling power over bodil}- movements may 
 be greatly diminished." 
 
 Now, if this be so (and we have not the temerity to dis- 
 pute Dr. Carpenter) it is in vain for a man to seek for mas- 
 tery in business or in an}- thing else while making a friend 
 of the bottle. Every other element of manhood treated in 
 this book goes overboard with the will. What are perse- 
 verance, or aim, or self-reliance, or self-assertion, or any thing 
 without will.'' We simply cite you to the very highest 
 authority on the laws of mind, and he sa}'s, if you would 
 hold your place in the world as a man you must avoid all 
 alcoholic drinks — all stimulants and opiates. 
 
 There never was a time when invincible will was so neces- 
 sary to success as in this century. Every vocation adver- 
 tises for herculean laborers. Enter the lists wherever you 
 may, you will find giants stripped for the contest. The con- 
 flict is not only a severe one, it is largely one of endurance. 
 Men who have written their names high have been content 
 to labor and to wait. Their philosophy has always sought 
 ivithin themselves Jor the cause of their slow advancement. 
 They felt that their opportunities were as good as those of 
 others, and that the world was doing them justice, but they 
 had not yet done themselves justice. 
 
 More preparation was needed, and longer application. 
 
138 THE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 No great thing is, or can be, done witliout these in a large 
 degree. Friends, learning, opportunity, are all valuable, but 
 they are as nothing without burning enthusiasm that will 
 not cool, and a living conviction, like Vallandingham's, that 
 you can not die, for your mission is not fulfilled. Take 
 those dull-eyed, listless, indifferent men — bankrupts — who 
 once had a hope in life, but are now dragging through a 
 miserable existence — those who are proverbially dissatisfied 
 with all the world — and they have lacked enthusiasm, en- 
 durance and will. 
 
 Every man suffers who has a want supplied before it is 
 consciously felt. Where every want is anticipated, where 
 every possible desire is courted, and where every side of the 
 many-sided nature is filled to surfeit, there is no room given 
 for natui-al development, and no opportunit}' for \-igorous 
 growth. To this stuffing process of home and school must 
 the charge of failure in many lives be laid. Over-care sates 
 and enervates. The boy who can get onl\' half the clothes 
 he wants, who can go to only half the places he wants to, 
 who has only half the money he needs, who has onl}' half 
 the college years he feels he must have, will find in this 
 plentitude of wants a stimulus that will carry hiin to noble 
 achievements; and the j'outh who has all these provided 
 before he ever feels the sting of want; has the greatest incen- 
 tive to action plucked out of his life. 
 
 Look at Warren Hastings. He sprang from an ancient 
 and illustrious race, but in infancy he was left dependent 
 upon a distressed grandparent. Clothed in peasant's garb, 
 the daily sight of the lands which his ancestors possessed, 
 and which had passed into the hands of strangers, filled his 
 young brain with wild projects. " He loved to hear stories 
 of the wealth and greatness of his progenitors, of their gener- 
 
WILLPOWER. 139 
 
 ous housekeeping, their loyalty and their valor. On one 
 bright summer day, the boy, then seven years old lay on the 
 bank of the rivulet which flows through the old domain of 
 his house to join the Isis. There, as three score and ten 
 years later he told the tale, rose in his mind a scheme which 
 through all the turns of his eventful career, was never aban- 
 doned : he would recover the estates which had belonged to 
 his fathers — he would be Hastings of Daylesford. 
 
 This purpose, formed in infancy and -poverty^ grew 
 stronger as his intellect expanded and his fortune rose. He 
 pursued his plan with that calm but indomitable force of will 
 which was the most striking peculiarity of his character. 
 When, under a tropical sun, he ruled fifty million Asiatics, 
 his hopes, amid all the cares of war, finance and legislation, 
 still pointed to Daylesford. And when his long public life, 
 so singularly checkered with good and evil, with glory and 
 obloquy, had at length closed forcAcr, it was to Daylesford 
 that he retired to die. 
 
 The world owes the brilliant career of Frederick the 
 Great to the ill-treatment he received from his unnatural 
 father. Up to the age of twenty, his father beat him 
 . cruelly, then piu'sued him through manhood, imprisoned 
 him, exiled him, condemned him as a deserter, and sen- 
 tenced him to death. Finally the old king's tyranny culmi- 
 nated by offering Frederick freedom and money if he would 
 renounce all right to the throne. He had suffered enough, 
 and he indignantly replied : " I accept, if my father will 
 declare that I am not his son." He ascended the throne 
 without governmental culture or the respect of his subjects. 
 His heart was chilled; he had not a friend; he did not even 
 love his wife; he listened to no counsel; he was cabinet, 
 constitution and state; he was transformed into a mighty 
 
140 • THE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 despot, whose sole thought was the aggrandizement of 
 Prussia. 
 
 Never did neglect and the pressure of want so transform 
 a rhapsodical voluptuar}^ He at once broke the " Prag- 
 matic Sanction," hurled his troops against Maria Theresa, 
 overran Silesia, and before Europe could overcome her 
 astonishment at the audacit}' of the pretense, returned to 
 Berlin a conqueror. The following spring he sallied to Moll- 
 witz. A battle was fought and won, but the dought}' 
 Frederick couldn't stand the smell of gunpowder and the 
 whiz of bullets. He so far lost his self-command as to 
 gallop six miles from the scene of action. 
 
 It seemed that he was without genius or tact, and was 
 compelled to learn ever}' thing he undertook. He was 
 a willing student. He now set out to learn the art of war, 
 and study the wants of his people. He was soon menaced 
 by three powers, with six hundred thousand troops, while he 
 was able to put but one hundred and sixty thousand men 
 into the field. But his will could supply the deficit, and in 
 an instant the rich electorate of Saxony was overflowed by 
 sixt}' thousand Prussian troops, filled with the energies of 
 their king, who had set his face against all Europe, and, 
 single-handed, was hewing his way to real greatness. 
 
 Through four defiles in the mountains the Prussians came 
 pouring into Bohemia. On the sixth of May was fought, 
 under the walls which, a hundred and thirty years before, 
 had witnessed the victory of the Catholic league and the 
 flight of the unhappy Palatine, a battle more bloody than any 
 which Europe saw during the long inter\'al between Malpla- 
 quet and Eylau. The personal valor of Frederick had 
 grown since MoUwitz, for he was everj'where present in the 
 thickest of the fight, animating his troops, directing the 
 
M'lLL-POWER. 141 
 
 charges, and anon grasping a gun from the hand of a soldier 
 and leveling it at the enemy. His character for personal 
 courage was re-established. 
 
 The dearl}--bought victory was followed by defeats on 
 ever}' hand. His capital was pillaged and burned. The 
 crops of his territor\- had failed. His people were discon- 
 tented and star\ing; his own kinsmen were rebellious, and 
 his officers could not act in concert for their riwilries. 
 Never was king plunged in deeper gulf of disaster not to be 
 overwhelmed. But dire necessit}- was the onl}- power that 
 could create will and genius for this monarch. Twenty 
 hours out of t\vent}'-four he now spent in stud\-ing tactics 
 and in reorganizing his scattered forces. When fall came 
 the net seemed to have closed completely around him. The 
 Russians were spreading devastation through his eastern 
 provinces. Silesia was overrun by the Austrians. A great 
 French arm}' was advancing from the west. Frederick 
 extricated himself from his triangular trap with dazzling 
 glor}-, in thirty days. At Breslau he met the last of the 
 mighty powers that were pitted against him. His coolly 
 conceived plans, his adroit maneuvers and the a\^'ful charge 
 of his squadrons were never more effective than on this day. 
 tie had now triumphed over three powers, the weakest of 
 which had more than three times his resources. He returned 
 to his capital confessedly the greatest general of the age. 
 
 Frederick returned to a triumphant but bankrupt nation. 
 He at once addressed himself to the necessities of his peo- 
 ple. Taxes were remitted in the most distressed pro\inces. 
 The pay of all state officers became nominal, and the court 
 was conducted with the most rigid economy, Frederick 
 himself being the most frugal of all the household; and 
 
142 TUB GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 when he came to be buried, he was clothed in the shirt of 
 his valet, for he had not a decent one of his own. 
 
 Whenever a man is thus willing to leave luxur}' and ease, 
 and be willing to grow into success through the toilsome 
 process of defeat and experience, he may safely put his aim 
 very high, for he has a force of character that will surel}- 
 drive him to ultimate greatness. 
 
 The school of adversity develops the highest types of 
 manhood. The nation, or the work such an one leaves, 
 is grounded upon a sure foundation. The men who flash 
 up like corruscating sky-rockets, generally fall, and their 
 work with them, as rapidly as they have risen. This is a 
 meteoric age. Men feel they must bound to success in a 
 day, or they will never make a creditable showing. It is 
 true some men, like Jim Fisk and Ralston, flash through the 
 universe as though astride a comet. But, by the flickering 
 light of their sparks as they go out of the world, is to be 
 seen a broken bank or an insolvent railroad. It is best not 
 to accept as models of will-power the men who are stunning 
 the world by their dashing achievements, but to take those 
 men of solid character, who are cool and self-reliant, who 
 never lose their grip on their ultimate aim, and who do 
 more for themselves than nature has ever done for them. 
 
 In connection with will-power one needs a willing heart. 
 No matter to what task one goes, if he does not carry a 
 willing heart into it, he will find his labor given for failure 
 and discontent. Drafted men may be as well drilled and 
 courageous, but the)^ never gain as splendid victories as the 
 volunteers. A cheerful, hearty espousal of the cause in 
 hand blows the flame of determination to a white heat. 
 There may be some hope for a man who actually and 
 earnestly works, even though he dislikes his calling. But 
 
WILLPOWER. 143 
 
 his hope should be limited, for his success can only be 
 moderate. 
 
 Look at Sidney Smith. What genius and talent he 
 possessed. But, buried in Yorkshire, a poor parish priest, 
 he disliked his situation, and though he resolved to like it, 
 and honestl)' strove so to do, yet the discontent was never 
 fully lifted from his heart; and the intellect that could have 
 irradiated the world was stunted, and but half did its work. 
 Patrick Henry disliked every thing into which he drifted or 
 his father drove him, until he happened on to the law. 
 There love and capacity met, and he was a made man. 
 Samuel Drew was apprenticed to a shoemaker, and lived, 
 as he said, " like a toad under a harrow." He was so 
 dissatisfied with life that he determined to become a pirate 
 and smuggler. But this same Drew lived to be an eminent 
 minister and a great author. The force of will that would 
 run the hazard of smuggling, or pound shoe leather all 
 night that he might " run " all day, when directed to some- 
 thing that /illed his heart with aspiration, and was congenial 
 to his tastes, enabled him to work with an enthusiasm that 
 knew no abatement, and permitted him to close his life in 
 peace, plenty, and honor. Cultivate your will-power, uniting 
 to it a burning enthusiasm for your calling, because it is a 
 noble and worthy calling, and because you feel that you can 
 do by and for it what no one has ever done before. 
 
i^mj^-^ fwp- 
 
 There is a tide in the affairs of men. 
 Which, taken at the flood, leads on to fortune; 
 Onnitted, all the voyage of their life 
 Is bound in shallows and in miseries. 
 
 — 'ihahsfeare. 
 
 Tact clinches the bargain; 
 
 Sails out of the bay; 
 Gets the vote in the Senate 
 
 Spite of Webster or Clay, 
 
"T^IMII^I %M^, 
 
 JTRAIGHTFORWARD coura<,-e, enterprise, and 
 good faith, are truly fertile with results and with 
 rewards. They are the ordinary means by which 
 the gradual changes in life are efTected. Bej^ond this there 
 is the vague, vast chapter of incident, which seems capri- 
 cious, but is a regular part of life's on-goings. As the great 
 natural gaps in the coast ranges draw the gentle sea breeze 
 into their funnels, and then send them on with hurricane 
 power over the broad plains be3'ond, so all moral move- 
 ments tend to a focus. All nature seeks a climax. The 
 common circumstances of life move on in their wonted 
 course; albeit, there is a power inappreciable to the common 
 eye that draws them to the funnel. They strike that focus 
 — the event within itsell is of no more brilliancy than a 
 thousand other events — but with their gathered power they 
 burst over vast territories of action, influencing untold 
 results. Greece won greater victories than Marathon, and 
 Persia received more crushing defeats; but that battle 
 occurred at the crisis of national life, when it made secure 
 the liberties of Greece and bid her civilization and culture 
 instill a new life into all the nations of earth. 
 
 Dean Alford said: " There are moments that are worth 
 
146 TUE GENIUS OF INVUHTliT. 
 
 more tiian years. We can not help it: there is no propor- 
 tion between spaces of time in importance nor in value. A 
 sick man may have the unwearied attendance of his physi- 
 cian for weeks, and then may perish in a minute because 
 he is not b}\ A stra}', unthought-of five minutes may 
 contain the event of a life. And this all-important moment, 
 thie moment disproportionate to all other moments, who can 
 tell when it will be upon us.^ " Men who, like Dean Alford, 
 have let a five minutes stra}" awa}" unthought of, and then 
 have waked up to find that it contained the event of years, 
 are not slow to appreciate the value of these immortal pas- 
 sages in life; but to appreciate them before they come, and 
 to throttle them as they pass, is the act upon which a life's 
 history often turns. 
 
 There are whole multitudes of men who, as they go 
 tottering down the hill of life, take a retrospect of their early 
 years, and are able to see distinctly where they missed their 
 chance, and because of it have been floundering in the mire 
 ever since. There is an astonishing amount of hind-sighted- 
 ness in the world. 
 
 Men are every day losing their confidence in chance-work. 
 They are coming to regard a happ}' chance as simpl}' an 
 occasion which sums up and brings to a result pre^"ious 
 training. Accidental circumstances are nothing except to 
 men who have been trained to take advantage of them. A 
 great occasion is worth to a man just what his antecedents 
 have enabled him to make of it. Erskine affords a striking- 
 illustration of this thought. He started at the bar without 
 social connections and under most discouraging circumstan- 
 ces. He was poor, and had no old lawyer to " feed " him a 
 case. He looked forward to a weary waiting for success. 
 He was on starvation's brink when he received his first 
 
TURNING POINTS. 147 
 
 retainer. But one shilling was left in his pocket. He was 
 preparing to start to the country to secure, if possible, a 
 small loan, when he sprained his ankle, and was forced to 
 abandon the trip. Had he made that trip, he might have 
 remained on the back benches of the court-room, a briefless 
 attorney forever, or would have revived his rusty commis- 
 sion in the army for bread and butter. 
 
 Captain Baillie called on him and found him confined with 
 his ankle. Erskiiie agreed to defend him against the prose- 
 cution brought b}' Lord Sandwich, which he did triumph- 
 antly, and at once passed to the head of the English bar. 
 Even after the brief was handed to him he would not have 
 figured as more than a silent attorne}- in the case, had not a 
 series of accidental circumstances favored him. Four senior 
 barristers had been retained; he had been retained for the 
 sake of old acquaintance; he could not hope to be heard 
 after these distinguished advocates, and so let the matter go, 
 But, fortunatel}', the affidavits were so long, running through 
 the whole course of the Admiralty, and one of the counsel 
 so tedious — "a tediousness aggravated by the circumstance 
 that one of them was afflicted with strangury, and had to 
 retire once or twice in the course of his argument" — that 
 the court was adjourned till next day. 
 
 Erskine had the afternoon and night before him. Never 
 did man harness minutes to better advantage. Possessed of 
 an iron constitution, he came to court the next day as ^•igor- 
 ous as ever. The Court was now fresh, and its faculties 
 wide awake. Of the young attorney's effort Lord Camp- 
 bell said: "It was the .most wonderful forensic effort of 
 which we have any account in British annals." Erskine 
 says: "I have since flourished, but ha^•e alwaj's blessed 
 God for the providential strangury of poor Hargrave." 
 
148 THE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 Within four years he was granted, at the suggestion of 
 Lord Mansfield, letters patent of precedence at the bar. 
 From his defense of the impeached Lord Gordon, to his 
 triumphant vindication of Home Tooke, he sustained the 
 dazzling grandeur of his debut. Seldom has a brilliant start 
 in life— perhaps the entire success of a life — been owing to 
 so many lucky circumstances. Yet, who does not sec that 
 every chance would have been shorn of its power to the 
 one-briefed attorne}-, if he had not, by former study, self- 
 culture, and great decision of character, prepared himself 
 to seize upon this crisis of his life and out of its unpromising 
 materials hew his destiny.? 
 
 Charles XII of Sweden was impoverishing his people and 
 wasting his own life with the voluptuous attaches of his 
 court when Peter the Great thought to make conquest of 
 his kingdom, and, allied with Denmark and Poland, pro- 
 ceeded to march upon his soil. The boy king, who had 
 never denied himself a pleasure, and who was not recog- 
 nized as having any ability bc3'ond court manners, was sud- 
 denly transformed into a stern soldier. He was about to be 
 dishonored and his crown taken from his brow. He dis- 
 missed his courtiers, and drew his sword never to sheath it 
 again. He banished wine from his board, coarse bread was 
 often his only food, and he not unfrequently slept on the 
 ground, wrapped in his cloak. Augustus sent Aurora von 
 Konigsmark with the hope of entangling Charles into some 
 intrigue. The young king refused to see the beauty; and, 
 furnishing her instant passport out of his camp, also sent 
 word that he had quit his chamber and was going forth to 
 embrace his enemies. 
 
 He concentrated his army with a Napoleonic rapidity, 
 fell on the Danes, overwhelmed them, and dictated the 
 
TURNING POINTS. 149 
 
 terms of peace in six weeks after the declaration of war. 
 He conducted campaigns under adverse circumstances, 
 moved his army in the dead of winter, and gave battle to 
 vastly outnumbering forces. He retained his own throne, 
 and seated and unseated kings. He carried on wars for 
 eighteen years with an army so far inferior to the enemy 
 in numbers that it would have disheartened Caesar or Hanni- 
 bal. He maintained his aggressive spirit to the last. 
 
 You know not how much everlasting fate hangs on "trifles 
 light as air; " a single deed, a word, a frown, a spider's web, 
 may become the turning point of destiny. Sallust says a 
 periwinkle led to the capture of Gibraltar. The bullet 
 which accidentally struck Gustavus on the field of Lutzen, 
 turned the course of history. Luther was inspired to his 
 great undertakings by reading the life of John Huss; and 
 William Carey entered on his sublime labors as a missionary 
 under the influence of " Captain Cook's Voyages." A 
 verger, after replenishing an oil lamp in the Pisa Cathedral, 
 left it swinging to and fro. Galileo, seeing it, conceived the 
 idea of measuring time by a pendulum. A spider's web 
 suspended across a garden path resulted in Sir Samuel 
 Brown inventing the suspension bridge. Lounging on a 
 pile of lumber, Brunei noticed a ship-worm boring its way 
 into a piece of wood with its well-armed head, and then 
 daub the roof and sides with its varnish; he accepted the 
 lesson, and tunneled the Thames. 
 
 Those men who are successful in making turning-points 
 possess large individuality and self-assertion. They repose 
 in such a wealth of power that their spring is similar to that 
 of a tiger from its lair. No pale thoughts e\-er quiver and 
 fluctuate in their minds. They are always ready, rapier in 
 hand, knowing what thrusts and turns of the fatal blade 
 
150 THE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 most surely disarm their antagonists. Franklin, when quite 
 a youth, entered a printing otfice in London and inquired if 
 he could get employment as a printer. " Where are you 
 from.^'' inquii-ed the foreman. "America," was the reply. 
 "Ah!" said the Ibreman, "from America! A lad from 
 America seeking emplo}-mcnt as a printer! Well, do you 
 reall}' understand the art of printing.-' Can you set type.'' " 
 Franklin stepped to a case and in a few moments set up the 
 following passage from the first chapter of John's Gospel: 
 " Nathaniel saith unto him, ' Can an}- good thing come out 
 of Nazareth.? ' Philip saith unto him, ' Come and see! ' " 
 
 This instantaneous selfhood is a vital matter. In plebeian 
 or patrician it is the indication of a ruler. One must step 
 forth in the confidence of power if he would have the world 
 recognize him. Cassius asserts what many men do not find 
 to be true until their last opportunity has departed, when he 
 says: 
 
 " Men at some time are masters of their fates: 
 The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars, 
 But in ourselves, that we are underlings." 
 
 This same principle holds true in the histories of all men 
 at some time in life. They are thrown into a mood by force 
 of circumstances, wherein some power touches them — a sort 
 of good genius — and the whole current of their being flows 
 with renewed vigor. Did not Faraday, a poor bookseller's 
 bo}', with his soul longing lor a knowledge of chemistry, 
 scratch down notes from Humphrey DavN'^s lectures, and, 
 on having the temerity to send them to the great head of 
 the Royal Institution, receive an appointment there in 
 which he laid the foundation for his splendid career.? When 
 the timorous Crabbe called on Burke with his labored 
 and graphic poetry, to secure a momentar}- glance from 
 
TURNING POINTS. 151 
 
 that busy statesman's eye, did not the prescient remark, 
 "Good! There's genius there!" send the EngUsh vicar 
 away a made man? Columbus, weary under the heat of a 
 southern sun, once asked' for a drink of water at a convent 
 door. The prior, won by his manly bearing, grew inter- 
 ested in his notions of' discovery, and ga\e him the introduc- 
 tions he so sorely needed. In return Columbus gave to 
 Castile and Aragon a new world. 
 
 There is a time when the mind is full of active, ferment- 
 ing thought, and seems to wait for the impregnating moment 
 that shall fertilize it. How often we touch along on supreme 
 moments and know it not ! Lord Eldon, then plain John 
 Scott, made his famous, first speech in court, saying, after- 
 ward, he felt all the time that his wife and children were 
 tugging at his robe, beseeching him to do his best; and 
 when his fee was handed him, thought of nothing but the 
 joy it would bring to that poor home, until an attorney 
 whispered in his ear, as he left the house, " Young man, 
 your bread and butter is made." Unknown to himself, he 
 had already started for the Great Seal. 
 
 Such incidents do not happen so infrequently after all, but 
 onl)' the observing, decisive men know when they come. 
 The man and the hour must approach simultaneously. 
 Each must be worthy the other. There are lawyers who, 
 if a golden opportunity came to them, would sit down and 
 tell the judge that they could not go on without their senior 
 counsel. There are arm}' officers who, in every case of 
 emergenc}', are at a dead stand-still if their general does not 
 tell them what to do. There are college professors who are 
 so drilled into the ruts of the text-books that they would 
 not be able to add an original idea in teaching the class, if 
 their lives were the forfeit. What is the value of oppor- 
 
152 THE GENIUS OF IX DUST RY. 
 
 tunity to such men? The man who has a sudden chance 
 presented to him must have a trained mind and practical 
 talent to enable him to meet the emergency, 'i hese are the 
 occasions for the exhibition of abilit}*: they can not create 
 ability. So, in what appear to be matters of luck, the 
 element of chance does not very much prevail. Worthy 
 men will, in the \'ast majority of cases, come to the front, 
 and accident, or want of accident, onl}' temporaril}- retards 
 them. 
 
 Start two men of equal scholarship into the race of life, 
 one a genius and the other a mediocre man. While the 
 genius of one may accomplish great feats, the wise discrim 
 ination of the other will enable him to utilize ever}- oppor- 
 tunity that comes within his reach, and attain more 
 beneficial results for himself and for the world. This is 
 why mediocrity so oft outstrips genius. An}' man will 
 make a success in life who makes the best possible use of 
 the circumstances by which he is surrounded. The lack of 
 this practical ability to turn every incident to its best use, is 
 our most fruitful cause of failure. While the man of 
 prodigious attainments is upon the mountains, tugging away 
 at the stars, the half lettered, but thoroughl}' disciplined, 
 man of business is pushing along the valle}', through dust 
 and stones, to fame and fortune. 
 
 Profound scholarship often proves an obstacle to a man's 
 rising in the world. It would not, if all men were equall}' 
 educated; but the larger half are deprived of college advan- 
 tages, and rehing on their wits to make up the deficit, they 
 secure tact and generalship that intellectual qualities rarely 
 possess. The intellectual man knows much of books; he 
 is deep in the sciences; he is versed in the lore of the 
 ancients; he is polished and classical; he is an acquisition in 
 
TUUNINO POINTS. 153 
 
 the drawing-room, and of some wilue on the platform, 
 or before a elass. But, alas for him, in the whirl and strife 
 among keen competitors ! Like a well-formed horse, fod on 
 oil-cake, he is sleek and symmetrical, well-rounded, and 
 a beauty to behold; but he was not built for a load, and is 
 too fat for the race-course. 
 
 Men who have had their heads inordinately stufTed with 
 Greece and Rome, until they are beside themselves with 
 much learning, unfortunately have little or no edge to their 
 native character. They are so highly polished that the les- 
 sons of experience glance off, taking no hold: cultivated to 
 such an unnatural size that their vigor is all gone; so self- 
 poised they have no enthusiasm; so civilized they can not 
 strike a bargain; so refined they are unfitted to descend to 
 the drudgery requisite to success; so full of general splendor 
 they can put a focus on no particular object; so indefinite in 
 all their characteristics that they utterly lack force and 
 incisiveness. Thus they sleep through the world, in a go- 
 easy sort of wa}-, keeping their friends in constant expectation 
 of their performing some great feat, and eventually turn into 
 their graves, not having drawn anything but blanks. On 
 the other hand, the men who are thrown out of school with 
 but a partial education, and no symmetry in their develop- 
 ment; who have rough, jagged corners of character; who, 
 like the gnarled and knotted oaks on the mountain side, 
 between fighting the storms for their place above, and quar- 
 relling with the rocks to get a hold for their roots beneath, 
 grow to untold size and might; who have just enough edu- 
 cation to equip them for life's battles, and still so little as to 
 give them a profound consciousness of their ignorance — such 
 men as these will be constantly warring with their fate, 
 striving to overcome all disadvantages; necessitated to keep 
 
154 THE GENIUS OB' INDUSTliY 
 
 their wits at tlieir finger's ends, they will be forced into self- 
 reliance, and gradually become bold, venturesome and 
 victorious. 
 
 These men ha^■e enough individuality left in them to do 
 things their own way. Whenever they come in conflict with 
 your smooth fellows, their horns gore them to death. Their 
 original traits are unshorn. They are trained to a high 
 degree of vigor; and, prompted forward by necessity, they 
 rush into the combat with no other intention than to win. 
 Is this not almost universall}' true.^ are not our half-educated, 
 strong-willed, self-reliant men the ones that accomplish our 
 most serviceable work in e\"ery department in life.' The 
 men who control the commerce — the mone^'-makers — east 
 and west, are these vigorous and self made men. They are 
 are our leading lawyers, from New York to San Francisco. 
 They are our most successful merchants. They are our 
 controlling statesmen, like Webster and Clay. And even 
 many of our greatest scientists and discoverers were never 
 accepted as erudite scholars. 
 
 This is not denying the worth of learning The estimate 
 placed on intellectual training, elsewhere in this volume, 
 shows how much we prize it. But it is an historical fact 
 that soft hands have not performed the world's great labors. 
 The men who have made history and shaped the destiny of 
 nations, were not trained in college halls nor moulded by the 
 culture of the drawing-room. When we see the world's 
 shining orator living in a cave, and training his voice against 
 the oceans's roar; when we see Constantine, who never read 
 a book, conquering Rome and giving a feeble church the 
 power by which she swayed the destinies of Europe for a 
 thousand years ; when we see Charles the Great, barely able 
 to sign his own name; when we see Walpole holding power 
 
TURNING POINTS. 155 
 
 for thiity years and scorning lea-rning; when we see Frank- 
 lin, who wandered Hke an Arab through the streets in liis 
 earl}' years, robbing the skies of lightning and circumvent- 
 ing the machinations of hostile powers; when we see the 
 " profoundly ignorant " Jackson managing the government 
 with a vigor unknown before; when we see the rough, un- 
 hewn backwoodsman, Lincoln, become the idol of his party 
 and give freedom to four million slaves — we feel convinced 
 that, whatever elegant scholarship may be worth, the experi- 
 ence gained from actual life is the wisdom that rules the 
 world. 
 
 Experience shows that a mind trained by necessity and 
 adversity is far more operative in all the sterner conflicts of 
 mankind than one refined by classic lore. That man who 
 comes to a contest relying on himself, feeling, it ma}' be, 
 that in all matters of general knowledge he is far inferior to 
 his opponent, but that he is master of all the elements to be 
 used in this struggle, will not be easily overthrown. Hun- 
 dreds of men have grown rich and influential whose college 
 hall was a log school-house, whose seats were split logs, and 
 whose curriculum was the three R's — Readin, Ritin, and 
 Rithmetic. Endowed with honest purposes and strong com- 
 mon-sense, they gathered, in their rustic retreats, the hard 
 facts of practical wisdom about men and things. When 
 they came to strike tor results in the great arena of life, 
 every blow was planted with telling effect. They hurled 
 themselves upon their opponents with unerring judgment, 
 and before their headlong dash the gorgeous graduate was 
 driven out of sight. 
 
 Another highly important particular is the time of doing 
 a thing. It is not enough to do the right thing: it must be 
 done at the right time, in the right place. Some one said of 
 
156 THE GENIUS OF INDUSTBT. 
 
 Andy Johnson that, " he could do the rightest thing at the 
 wrongest time of any man in America." The world is full 
 of these impractical people, whose hearts are bursting with 
 good purposes, but who always perpetrate them on poor 
 subjects. It is a crime for one to do a right act at the 
 wrong time. A man may be an acute and sagacious writer, 
 and be able to comprehend the thousand conditions that 
 fence a question in, and solve them all with his pen, but when 
 he descends from his solitary elevation to cast his efforts 
 upon the world, if it is not the fullness of time, he is marched 
 off to oblivion as a failure. 
 
 Butler's Iludibras was an uninviting, sarcastic poem, but 
 the lucky time of its advent on the world secured it an en- 
 dnring fame. It was hurled at the cant and pious pretense 
 of the Cromwellian authorities, just after the Restoration, 
 when Puritanical severity of manners was beginning to look 
 ludicrous to English eyes. So with George Eliot's, " Daniel 
 Deronda : " if given to the public twenty years ago, it would 
 have been a very dry story; but coming up and grappling, 
 in its novel form, with the nationalizing of the Jews in Pales- 
 tine, in the very hours when the Rothschilds were drawing a 
 mortgage on the Vatican; when Russia was trampling the 
 crescent in the dust ; when Disraeli was flashing his scimiter in 
 the face of all the diplomats; when the Jews wre all disturbed 
 by the doctrine of re-colonization, and were moving to the 
 gift of Jehovah by hundreds — it strikes the current of uni- 
 versal demand, and was the pronounced success. 
 
 It is tact our unsuccessful men lack, not talent. They are 
 are filled with soarings after the infinite, but they never 
 know what to do with the finite. It is tact that makes men 
 respectable, obtains position, and gets riches. Talent is 
 intellectual; tact has no necessary connection with knowl- 
 
TURNING POINTS. 157 
 
 edge. Talent solves all the abstruse, hidden, and complex 
 difficulties, through laborious mental study; tact feels that 
 this is right, dives at the result, and comes up victorious 
 without an effort. The world worships talent, but engages 
 tact to do its business. In all the real concerns of life tact 
 wins the race before talent gets a fair start. Those rough 
 and smooth " Scourges of God," and " Darlings of the 
 Human Race," like Julius Ccesar, Charles V of Spain, 
 Charles XII of Sweden, were sufficient men, standing on 
 legs of iron, with sword and staff — tact and talent — in 
 hand. They were equal as officers to their office; as cap- 
 tains to their wars; as ministers to their states, and who, as 
 emperors, could have spared their empires. They were 
 students of the forum and field. The world was their 
 estate, passing events their commerce, and victor}' their 
 privilege. 
 
 The world admires Coriolanus and Gracchus, Lafayette 
 and Wellington, Washington and Grant, because of their 
 pure manhood. They are men who fill Clarendon's portrait 
 of Hampden — "who was of an industry and vigilance not 
 to be tired out or wearied by the most laborious, and of 
 parts not to be imposed on by the most subtle and sharp, 
 and of a personal courage equal to his best parts." 
 
 Few men are able to do many things, as did Leonardo de 
 Vinci. But when they undertake one, and sink into a 
 statute-book or machine, the very singleness of the under- 
 taking seals their doom. Sir Isaac Newton adorned mathe- 
 matics, expounded the prophecies, and was a good master of 
 the mint. Niebuhr mastered the Arabic, Russian and 
 Slavonic languages, and became the first of historians; 3'et 
 he was so efficient in the management of business that the 
 Danish Government appointed him commissioner of the 
 
158 THE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 national finances. Daru could not be a courtier, but he 
 could write books, enter into philosophical disquisitions, and, 
 at the same time be the most efficient prime minister France 
 ever had, "All things have two handles," the old oracle 
 said. It is a man's own fault if he grasps but one. 
 
 Again, the man who can discover something new that the 
 world reall}' needs, will find in it the biith of a new success. 
 The world waited from the days of the Ptolemies for 
 Stephenson to come. It waited from the first stroke of the 
 manufacturer and the first effort at commerce for Watt. 
 Europe and America waited for Cyrus Field from 1620 
 until 1 868. And civil liberty mourned and would not be 
 comforted, from the days of the first despot until Columbus 
 loosed from Palos and started for a new world. 
 
 An observing- habit is one of the surest of agencies to pre- 
 pare one for coming events, and thereby enable him to trim 
 sails and take the tide at its flood. The multitude are able 
 to see an opportunity after it has passed. Only the observ- 
 ing man, who carries his wits uppermost, is able to see 
 coming events by the shadows they cast before. And yet 
 the world is always wondering how it is that this man is 
 in the nick of time with every thing he does. Close obser- 
 vation is much a matter of habit. The man who starts in 
 rife with the habit of thoughtlessness, who never sees any 
 thing, starts heavily weighted in the race. He has a doubly 
 hard conquest on his hands. He must conquer the instinct 
 of habit and conquer the world. Careless observation has 
 an effect upon all our actions, much as the plague of Athens 
 which, Thucydides tells us, drew all other diseases into its 
 one prevalent type of illness. The great discoverers have 
 been observing, thoughtful men. Columbus and Cook never 
 let a sea-weed float by their vessels unnoticed. Audubon 
 
TURN I NO POINTS. 159 
 
 and Humboldt would follow a chirping bird or skulking ani- 
 mal for miles into the pathless forest, and return precisely b}' 
 the same route. Clay and Pitt could reply to a four-hours' 
 speech, argument by argument, without the use of notes. 
 It is this faculty which so blesses Spurgeon with daily food 
 for his pulpit, and it grants to Beecher the material for his 
 illustrations, without which his sermons would lose much of 
 their striking power. 
 
 To get on successfully there must be a settled, stolid 
 determination to that end. " To show capacity," a French- 
 man describes as the end of a speech in debate; " No," said 
 an Englishman, " but to set your shoulder to the wheel — to 
 advance the business." Sir Samuel Romilly refused to 
 speak before popular assemblies, and confined himself to the 
 House of Commons, where a measure could be carried by a 
 speech. The high positions in England are not beds of 
 ease. The man who wins his spurs there must do frightful 
 amounts of labor. Peel " knew the Blue Books by heart." 
 
 An Englishman is long-headed. He is willing to bide his 
 time, but when the time comes he strikes with awful ferocity. 
 His island is renowned for its breed of mastiffs, so fierce 
 that, when their teeth are set, you must cut their heads off 
 to part them. The people are like their dogs: the English 
 wrestle is main force pitted against main force, the planting 
 of foot to foot, fair pla}' and open field — a rough tug, with- 
 out trick or dodging, until one or both come down ; like old 
 King Ethewald, who planted himself at Wimborne, and 
 said, "he would do one of two things — or there live, or 
 there lie." 
 
 An essayist, speaking of this trait, says: "The English- 
 man speaks with all his body. His elocution is stomachic, 
 as the American's is labial. He betrays himself at all 
 
160 THE GENIUS OF INDUSTHY. 
 
 points, in his manners, in his respiration, and the inarticulate 
 noises he makes in clearing his throat — all signiticant of 
 burly strength. He has stamina; he can take the initiative 
 in emergencies. He has that aplomb which results from a 
 good adjustment of the moral and physical nature, and the 
 obedience of all the powers to the will, as if the axis of" his 
 eyes were united to his backbone, and only mo\"ed with the 
 trunk." The American needs more of this qualit}' in his 
 character. He is as much on the alert as the Englishman, 
 but he lacks that determined following of a course that 
 makes a man superior to difficulties, and chains destin}' to 
 his chariot-wheels. 
 
 Another power that gives one a good turn in going 
 ■to success is self-advertising. Merit is not a failure, and 
 modesty is not a humbug; but if a man would get on to his 
 destiny by the fast line, he must, blow his own trumpet. 
 Most men have come to the conclusion that a little tinge of 
 charlatanism is needed to give fla^■or to a fine achievement. 
 Acting upon this doctrine, merchants, lawyers, doctors, and 
 even ministers, are seen flaunting to the public eye the ban- 
 ner of self-praise. 
 
 The art of self-advancement is not so much to do a thing 
 well, as to get a thing that has been moderately well done 
 largely talked about. It has been said that " the works of 
 DeQuincey, without newspaper puffing, would find purchas- 
 ers only among pastry-cooks and barbers;" while the lasl 
 sensational novel, That Husband of Mine, by means of 
 staring posters and gushing notices, has., in si.x weeks, run 
 up a sale of a hundred thousand copies. What is more 
 common than to see the brazen-faced doctor, who has just 
 arrived, ignore all the other physicians, hang up his diploma 
 by his front window, and in lour months have half the 
 
TURNING POINTS. 161 
 
 community working to bring him the practice of the other 
 halt" } 
 
 Who has not seen a young attorney walk into the bar for 
 the hrst time, and plead his ten-dollar case moderatel}- well, 
 but. '.n his self-sufficient wa}-, every gesture was the flash of 
 a conqueror's scimeter;' the very tone of his voice seemed to 
 say, " / am master of the situation," and his self-reliant 
 demeanor made every one in the court room feel like hand- 
 ing him a retainer's fee. Andy Johnson was at one time the 
 most popular politician in the Union, and to set up one of 
 his speeches would exhaust the Fs in a metropolitan pub- 
 lishing office. Is it not a matter of common occurrence for 
 a second-rate man to be introduced into a social circle, and, 
 by a few aptly-turned con\-ersations, make himself the lead- 
 ing man of the company.'* How many men went into the 
 army corporals and came out colonels, without bravery 
 or adventitious circumstances to aid them, simply because 
 they courted headquarters and acted all the time as though 
 they were colonels.'' 
 
 No matter how sharpl}' the moralist ma}' censure this 
 polic\', the greater portion of our successful tradespeople are 
 engaging in it. It is refreshing to see the medical and legal 
 profession weeding out the quack advertisers from their 
 associations, but the man who makes an advertisement out 
 of himself can not be beheaded so easily, for this self-adver- 
 tising is a part of the individualism of the man. Some of 
 the richest wits that society possesses utter their finest 
 conceits in a nervous, self-distrusting, stammering way, that 
 damns them on their lips. On the other hand, some of the 
 most solid talkers we have, innocently present themselves as 
 the heroes of their every conversation, and it is done with 
 
162 THE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 such natural grace that the company falls in love with the 
 hero. 
 
 Some men will write two columns of original matter 
 daily for some great paper for six months, and then apply at 
 the office for a situation, and be told that they may come in 
 on trial for a week or two. Another man will write an 
 article, and even the newsboys will find him out. Gray was 
 so morbidly sensitive that he shuddered when he saw his 
 name in a newspaper. Byron dictated to reporters like a 
 king. Now, shrewd business men ha^■e observed the natur- 
 alness of this principle in some men, and the lack of it in 
 others; and, noting the effect it had on their advancement, 
 they have set about making it part of their stock in trade. 
 
 This method of seeking for promotion can not be too 
 stoutly condemned when it approaches the borders of " sharp 
 practice." Success is not worth the sacrifice of a single 
 honorable principle. If a man can not advance himself and 
 his wares without descending to this sordid cunning., he will 
 find small sales and small profits with a clear conscience to 
 be the highest of rewards; but timidity about emphasizing 
 one's eg'o, or pronouncing decidedly on the quality of his 
 goods, is as far on the line of silliness as the other is on the 
 line of viciousness. A man's good opinion of himself is a 
 part of his capital. 
 
 No man can hope to get on who thinks meanly of himself. 
 The world seldom puts a higher estimate on a man than he 
 puts on himself. Somehow, the man that thinks well of him- 
 self, and acts well toward himself, will cheat us into thinking 
 and acting in the same way toward him. Just so with his 
 wares — if he speaks of them in a timid, half-confident sort 
 of way, we feel just that way toward them, and we pass to 
 the next door and buy the same brand of goods at ten per 
 
TURNING POINTS. 163 
 
 cent, advance, going away happy, because the merchant has 
 stamped them with his own self-assurance. 
 
 There is a moral demand on e\ery man to place a good 
 stout estimate upon himselt" and upon all with which he has 
 to do. The one extreme of undue depreciation and the 
 other extreme of supercilious puffing are to be avoided. 
 But honor, in a stronger voice than success, calls for a credit- 
 able estimate of himself and of his business. Who ever 
 heard of Wellington or Bonaparte underrating his abilities.'' 
 Neither were they e\er known foolishty to laud them. They 
 knew what they were worth, and said so; and the world's 
 confidence in their self-assertion helped them to success. 
 The humble Nazarene was too honest and sincere to ever un- 
 derspeak his own worth, even when his life was the forfeit. 
 All the world can see why he ought to have moderated his 
 claims at Pilate's bar; but he was too devoted to himself and 
 what he had to do for this. So, every man's self and busi 
 ness should be to him the the most important in all the world, 
 and so grovind into his very blood and bone that he will 
 speak its value in everything he does. 
 
 There is another reason for this. Every man is taken up 
 with his own concerns. He has but little time to notice the 
 merits of others. Hence the man who incessantly obtrudes 
 himself upon the eye, genteely persisting in his superior tal- 
 ents, and continually reminding one of the special advantages 
 of dealing with htin^ will at last force you into noticing him 
 and purchasing his wares; while the man of equal parts in 
 every sense, who retreats into some obscure corner and folds 
 his arms in complacent humilit}', you seldom hear of and 
 never think of patronizing. 
 
 The man engaged in a business that the people never hear 
 of would be in no worse predicament if he had no business. 
 
164 THE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 Not that the people want to neglect unobtrusive merit; but, 
 in the rush ^nd roar of these times, a man must get on an 
 eminence and blow a loud trumpet if he would be heard and 
 seen. The people are so busy they have no time to hunt up 
 retreating merit. Indeed they have no disposition to do so. 
 The practical world takes it for granted that an article of 
 merit will be duly announced. As society is now organized 
 a man must live up to his business; he must "point the toe," 
 wear a seasonable hat, hold his head high, wear fashionable 
 clothes and court the attention of" the world. 
 
 Men who are simpl}- forward and impudent do not get on 
 well. They may ride the tide for one day; but as sure as 
 to-morrow comes, their worthlessness will be exploded, and 
 they will sink deeper than if they had never risen at all. It 
 is a common thing tor those who fail to sneer at those who 
 succeed, and say that nothing but " brass " did it. Now, 
 brass doubtless had something to do with it, but not all. It 
 is simply impossible for a man possessing brazen-facedness 
 alone to arrive at eminence in these days. Do not attempt 
 to persuade yourself that puffing alone will carry you to your 
 goal. It will doubtless bring the eye of the world upon 
 )'ou; but when you enter upon the performance, should you 
 fall short of your loft}' proclamations, }'ou have but sounded 
 the trumpet for an awful rout. 
 
 Without true merit no man can hope to succeed. There 
 must be a basis of character and force, or else all ad\'ertise- 
 ments will fail of good result. But merit is a fruitless thing 
 if it goes unheralded. Merit is too often inactive. Well- 
 matured and well -disciplined talent is alwa3's sure of a mar- 
 ket, provided it exerts itself; but it must not cower at home 
 and expect to be sought for. " It usually happens that those 
 favored men have that valuable qualit}'' oi promptness and 
 
TUHNINQ POINTS. 165 
 
 activity without which worth is a mere inoperative prop- 
 erty." Tiie business of the world stands in need of merit, 
 and its interests suffer e\-ery day because it comes not forward. 
 It" upstarts and charlatans are to be made to keep their places, 
 men of merit must discern the signs of the times, and 
 go forward with promptness and decision, when ability is 
 called for. 
 
 A certain amount of self-advertising is essential to inspire 
 a man with proper confidence in himself, and in his work. 
 A man unimpressed with his own worth, or the dignit}' of 
 his calling is apt to retire to the chimney corner, and feel 
 that the world fails to appreciate him. It may be true that 
 the world does not appreciate him, but has he ever showed 
 his veins of gold to the world ? The acres that cover the 
 Comstock lode would bring no more on the market than 
 any other barren mountain tract if the wealth beneath had 
 not been announced. Man}' men have a rich lode for the 
 world, but they stay so close in their closets that a " pros- 
 pector " can ne\'er get within reach of them. 
 
 Conscious of your unde\eloped worth, set a good price on 
 it. Reverence yourself as able to fill a high niche in the 
 temple of 30ur calling. Never w^ait for the world to call 
 3'ou by name. No matter whether 3'our name is Smith, or 
 Jones, or Don Souza de Cabral. The world wants a man. 
 If it is your pursuit, sound the charge, and rush to the work 
 with all the alacrity, decision, tact, and self-confidence that 
 a man ought to feel, knowing that he has been set apart, 
 from the foundation of the world, for this ver}' purpose. 
 
 Be pi^ompt, then, whenever the crisis arrives. The man 
 who springs into the " imminent deadly breach " at that 
 moment will carry oft' the laurels. No matter what the 
 obstacles may be, they must be charged with determination, 
 
166 THE GENIUS OF INDUSTRT. 
 
 and carried, or you are defeated. " Sire, General Clarke 
 can not combine with General Junot, for the dreadful fire of 
 the Austrian batter}-." " Let him carry the batter}-." " Sire, 
 ever}- regiment that approaches that heavy artillery is sacri- 
 ficed. Sire, what orders.''" "Forward, forward!" The 
 sullen " forward," was given along the line. The solid 
 columns moved up amid the whirl of smoke and death; the 
 battery was taken, and the battle won. 
 
 Marshal your forces with \igor and skill, and plant them 
 in the front with a wise ingenuit}-. Know }-ourself, and 
 study the world. Be ready for that }-ou are equipped for, 
 and plunge into it like a diver into the waters. Society is 
 on the alert for full-orbed men. There is a lull and a lee- 
 wind for every one to seize, if he will only be on the watch. 
 Those electric men who haA-e taken the world by surprise 
 have achieved their victoiies in these salient moments. 
 Many of them ha\-e relied on recurring crisises and their skill 
 to direct them for their success. Such a one said, '' Con- 
 quest has made me what I am, and conquest must maintain 
 me!" 
 
 
■K|iii^ilif^. 
 

 ^iRMJ^'AtlTY' 
 
 There is a great power in individuality. A man has half vvon the battle of 
 life when he has learned how to keep hinnself out of other people. — W. T. 
 Moore. 
 
 The force of his own merit mal<es his way. — Shaksfcarc. 
 
 Examples demonstrate the possibility of success. — Coltoii. 
 
 I am as free as Nature first made man, 
 Ere the base laws of servitude began, 
 
 -Dry den. 
 
HIS is the era when Solomon's statement — " There 
 is nothing new under the sun " — needs to be 
 reversed. Every thing now " under the sun " 
 seems new. And a philosophic fiddler has come to light 
 who proposes b}' vibrations of musical sounds to se\'er the 
 chains which suspend our vast bridges. 
 
 In most of the callings of life, genius is at a discount, 
 unless it includes the genius of originality. A man would 
 pine away if he depended merely on the grit of endurance. 
 There must be something worth while to endure for, or one 
 would as well quit. The old methods are swiftl}' passing 
 into obli\ion; stereotyped rules are breaking; every busi- 
 ness is crying out for a new management. No merchant 
 thinks now-a-days of " making a run " on old styles; actors 
 become "bright, particular stars;" ph3-sicians make their 
 regular professional tours; grocers, dr3'-goods men, and 
 hardware men have their runners out all over the country 
 with samples. If doctors can not get a patient, the}' ride 
 to and fro an3-how; if lawyers can not secure a retaining 
 fee, they retain themselves rather than be idle in the courts. 
 To get on now, one must be both fi-esh and phenomenal. 
 This was one of the secrets of Martin Luther's success with 
 the masses. In a discussion over the driest dogmas, he 
 
170 THE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 would rise into the grandest outbursts of eloquence at 
 unlooked-for times, confound his opponent, and rush his con- 
 gregation on to his conclusions by the torrent of his rhetori- 
 cal logic. George Francis Train, in his da}', commanded 
 more attention than any other man on the American conti- 
 nent, receiving the highest prices for his lectures; yet he 
 was nothing if not phenomenal. The world often cries 
 " crotchet " if a man persists in doing a thing after the fash- 
 ion of his own mind; but these are the men who are always 
 heard and always well paid. If Harvey had ceased his 
 advocacy of blood circulation because one-half of the world 
 cried "knave," and the other "fool," we might to-day have 
 been ignorant of the use of the veins. 
 
 The marked men of the world have been men of large 
 individualit}'. Bacon and Buckle never waited for the apoc- 
 alyptic angel to say "write." They found a door, forced it 
 open, and entered; they spoke with authorit}', and their 
 oracular utterances were always the precursors to victory. 
 
 Some inen possess individuality, but they are afraid to 
 assert it. They have confidence in all the world, but none 
 in themselves. They are always playing the part of Cau- 
 tious in the dialogue with Fidus: 
 
 FiDus — Think you, Cautious, that right is right? 
 
 Cautious — The question which you ask is one too hard 
 For me alone to answer in direct words. 
 So then, if right is not right, they sound alike, 
 And this sound itself doth lead me to think 
 There may be some affinity between the words. 
 But this I will not now decide. Before 
 We meet again, perhaps, the problem 
 Will have passed through other heads, 
 And coming to me without its mystery, 
 I may, perchance, give some decision, 
 Though it be just as wrong as rtg/it is right. 
 
ORIOINALITT. 171 
 
 " Such men," says W. T. Moore, " expend their force 
 on space. In Hfe's great conflicts, where decision and indi- 
 vidual action are necessary, they hide themselves behind a 
 fortress of trembling ?/i, or seek safety in the mysterious 
 windings of endless circumlocutions. If you would be a 
 man, you must stand up and look the world in the face; not 
 impudently, but firmly. Be sure that the world sees you 
 before you sit down. You have a right to be seen, if you 
 are a man^ and if you are not a man, then beg the world 
 to put baby clothes on }-ou, and send you back to the 
 nursery." 
 
 Men of large individuality do their own thinking, and 
 are always ready to assume the responsibility of their con- 
 duct. There is no hesitancy in their utterance; no uncertain 
 meaning in their speech. Louis XIV won more with his 
 words than with his sword. John J. Crittenden tells how 
 this element in a man makes him overleap all barriers, and 
 carry his point literally by storm, when he gives an instance 
 of the Great Commoner's experience with the Missouri 
 question : 
 
 " It was in an evening sitting, while this question was yet 
 in suspense, Mr. Clay had made a motion to allow one or 
 two members to vote who had been absent when their 
 names were called. The Speaker (Mr. Taylor), who, to a 
 naturally equable temperament, added a most provoking 
 calmness of manner when all around him was excitement, 
 blandly stated, for the information of the gentleman, that 
 the motion ' was not in order.' Mr. Clay then moved to 
 suspend the rule forbidding it, so as to allow him to make 
 the motion; but the Speaker, with imperturbable serenity, 
 informed him that, according to the Rules and Orders, such 
 a motion could not be received without the unanimous con- 
 
172 THE GENIUS OF INDUSTRT. 
 
 sent of the House. ' Then^^ said Mr. CLiy, exerting his 
 voice even beyond its highest wont, ' / move to suspend 
 ALL the rules of the House. A -way tvith them ! Is it to 
 be endured that we shall be trammeled in our action by 
 mere forms and technicalities at a moment like this, when 
 the peace, and perhaps the existence, of this Union is at 
 stake.?'" 
 
 You have seen a blacksmith wield his sledge. He swings 
 it in a reckless way; but somehow it falls exactly on the 
 right spot, and fashions the iron to his wish. Undertake to 
 do it just as he does, and you will fail. You may seize the 
 handle at the same place, describe the same sweeping circle 
 over the shoulder, but the chances are ten to one you will 
 miss the spot. Can one execute a piece of statuary equal 
 to Harriet Hosmer, just because he uses her hammer and 
 chisel.'* Neither can you forge the blacksmith's iron. The 
 power that fashions that is mind and muscle merged in 
 individuality, and that you can not grasp. Efforts to appro- 
 priate the skill and cunning of others generally end in 
 disgrace. Each man is created an independent organism, 
 and individuality is the leading characteristic in that organ- 
 ism. Each man is thus so hedged about that he must, 
 from within himselt', work out his destiny. An attempt to 
 imitate another's power can only result in destroying one's 
 own ability. 
 
 Nowhere is there such a progeny of persistent imitators 
 as in the literary field; and yet in no field is there such 
 absolute demand for individualism. Let a writer's thought 
 be wrought out as his own coinage : let him give himself to 
 the people, whether in the ornate sentences of Wendell 
 Phillips, or in the trite platitudes of Martin F. Tupper. In 
 this way, if one can not secure admiration, he will at least 
 
ORIGINALITY. 173 
 
 preserve himself. To be half }-ourself and half some one 
 else, is, as BjTon sa}s — 
 
 " So middling, bad were better." 
 
 When Byron's English Bards and Scotch Reviewers was 
 published, at once every literary fledgling in England began 
 to satirize his critics. It is said that half the Baptist 
 preachers in the United Kingdom aflect Mr. Spurgeon, while 
 hundreds of American pulpits are red-hot with the rhetori- 
 cal cannonading of aspiring Talmages. Colonel Ingersoll, 
 in the Cincinnati Convention of 1876, nominated James G. 
 Blaine for President, in a speech that electrified the party. 
 At once every partisan orator in the land eulogized Blaine, 
 until we almost forgot that IIa}-es and Tilden were candi- 
 dates. 
 
 Sometimes there is a marked similarity in style that leads 
 to unjust criticism. Emerson has been charged with study- 
 ing and imitating Carlyle. There is a striking similarity in 
 their philosophy, and also in their style of expression, their 
 phraseology being of the same mold ; yet '' Einerson is not 
 like Carlyle so much in an\- thing as in his originalit}'." 
 There are two chapters in the Bible exactly alike, word for 
 word; still each answers a special purpose, in its place. 
 You may have the gesture, voice, or tjpe of expression 
 possessed by another, but do not seek to change it at your 
 peril. 
 
 The \-alue of models must not be misunderstood. There 
 is no advantage so great to a 3'oung man as having an , 
 illustrious model before him. But he is not to imitate that 
 model as the painter does the Last Supper. He is to find, 
 in the perfection set before him, an incentive to action — a 
 great, inspiring power that leads him to the same degree of 
 excellence. A great example is like so many more pounds 
 
174 THE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 of steam turned on to the driving-wheels of the engine. 
 They hurry the train up to the city ; but the steam is not the 
 city. So the exemplar is a helping hand to lead his pupil 
 on; but the exemplar is not the ''destiny;" he is onl}' a 
 means used to reach the destiny. An illustrious teacher 
 once said to his school: " You know what I have achieved; 
 model after my industry and persistent labor, but do not 
 imitate «/e." 
 
 Originality anticipates the wants in its calling, and strives 
 to supply them. And while it is unfortunately true that 
 many inventors are compelled to yield up a controlling 
 interest in their " goods " to some shrewd business manager, 
 after all it frequently occurs that the}' reap more profit than 
 if they had persistently kept the control in their own hands. 
 The genius of invention and the genius of disposal seldom 
 go together. 
 
 Whatever the special feature of your originality may be 
 it is best to cultivate it. Every effort to cultivate the other 
 faculties will end in dissipating the vigor of this. Success 
 is with the specialist. Silly men may cry out against one- 
 idea men, but very seldom have men with two ideas 
 accomplished any creditable work. John Stuart Mill may 
 be poet, orator, and philosopher, metaphysician, politician, 
 and botanist, yet how feeble are the results achieved by that 
 capacious soul! What might he not have accomplished if 
 he had subordinated all to one idea! Bonaparte was prolific 
 with power in many directions, but he concentrated the 
 whole force of his being on a single aim. and stamped him- 
 self the military chieftain of the world. The Bonapartes of 
 every calling have been one-idea men. The specialist 
 always makes one thing shine, and this often atones for all 
 the faults elsewhere. Some merchants have been denounced 
 
ORIOINALITT. I75 
 
 as knowing nothing about their business, by their com- 
 petitors, and have died rich, because they knew how to 
 advertise. 
 
 Industry is indispensable to originaHty. True, some 
 eminent men are said never to stud}-, but their very excep- 
 tion proves the rule. ' Like Richard Wagner in composing 
 his music, they may He dormant for days, and even weeks; 
 but when they have recuperated, and ail their powers are 
 full, they bend to work with an energy others are not capa- 
 ble of giving, and produce their astonishing results through 
 the very appliances they are said to despise. There is 
 a much greater .per cent, of common ability prominent than 
 of extraordinary; for few men who are conscious of pos- 
 sessing superior talents exercise them; and the loftiest 
 talents may be carried through life, a burden rather than a 
 blessing. There is as much individualism in application as 
 there is in invention. 
 
 Fortunately for the world, the men who possess the ability 
 to achieve great works, possess also the genius of applica- 
 tion. The man who holds the possibility of vast achievement 
 within himself is never lacking in the industry to produce it. 
 He may dissipate his forces, like Hobbes, over a score of 
 leading objects, and execute none; but such a life only indi- 
 cates the impracticability of its possessor. Nature has 
 never fitted any man for sterling deeds, and then failed to 
 provide him with the energy to attain them. It is very 
 common talk that such a one " has talents, and he could do 
 much if he would only apply himself." Yet we notice he 
 does not apply himself. 
 
 He is one of those unfortunates, brilliant on the surface, 
 always arousing the expectations of his friends, but never 
 filling them. He has no reserved power; if he had, you 
 
176 TUB GENIUS OF INDUHTliY. 
 
 could no more keep him from action than 30U could keep 
 a mountain spring dry by bailing it. The creative fountains 
 of the soul would be forever pouring up incenti\es in that 
 direction, until finally, in some wa}', he would go forth to 
 accomplishment. Industr}-, like any other facult}', can be 
 cultivated, and needs to be in ever}- man; but inborn indus- 
 try is on a level with inborn ability to achieve. John 
 Ruskin forcibly sets forth this principle. He 5333: 
 
 " The greatness or smallness of a man is, in the most 
 conclusive sense, determined for him at his birth, as strictl}- 
 as it is determined for a fruit whether it is to be a currant 
 or an apricot. Education, favorable circumstances, resolu- 
 tion, and industry can do much ; in a certain sense they do 
 everything; that is to say, they determine whether the poor 
 apricot shall fall in the form of a green bead, blighted by an 
 east wind, shall be trodden under foot, or whether it shall 
 expand into tender pride, and sweet brightness of golden 
 velvet. But, apricot out of currant, great man out of small, 
 did never yet art or effort make, and, in a general waj', men 
 have their excellence nearly fixed tor them when the}' are 
 born; a little cramped and frost-bitten on one side, a little 
 sun-burned and fortune-spotted on the other, they reach, 
 between good and evil chances, such size and taste as gen- 
 erally belong to the men of their caliber, and the small 
 in their serviceable bunches, the great in their golden isola- 
 tion." 
 
 After all, that much-abused thing, common sense, is a 
 potency in the struggle of life. Possessing it, no man e\-er 
 fell on evil days. Possessing it, he never sighs because he 
 wasn't born a half century earlier in the world's history, or 
 blames fortune because he wasn't born a half century later 
 for a lucky time; but he believes that the good time of 
 
ORIGINALITT. 177 
 
 the world is now, and in the country where he Ywcs. 
 I le is prepared to make the best out of the circumstances by 
 which he is surrounded. 
 
 The most distinguished trait in such statesmen as Callioun 
 and Webster, and such tinanciers as Vanderbilt and Roths- 
 child was common scitsc. It is the prevailing feature in 
 Beecher and Spurgeon, and is the element that has made the 
 writings of Greeley and Holland acceptable to all classes. 
 Don't pine away because you are not an eccentric genius, 
 for, if you have common sense, you possess something 
 infinitely more valuable. 
 
 The world is full of books showing the Micawbers how 
 they may reach greatness. They tell us that what man has 
 done, any man can do again. One has but to will it, and 
 the thing is done. 
 
 They tell how 
 
 " Lives of great men all remind us 
 We can make our lives sublime, 
 And, departing, leave behind us 
 Footprints on the sands of time." 
 
 If one loves birds, they race him through the woods after 
 Audubon; if nature, they send him roving through the for- 
 ests of South America with Humboldt ; if he is ambitious, 
 the}' shake the blood\' mantle of Caesar in his face, or daz- 
 zle his eyes with the diadem of Constantine; or if poetry, 
 thev tell him how Pope labored his couplets, and love-mad 
 Tasso wrote during the midnight hours; and if the aim is 
 to get money, they tell of the ragged boy who picked up a 
 pin on the bank steps. The poor victim, thus enamored 
 and inflamed, '' lies down to pleasant dreams " of pelf and 
 power, rises to his undertaking, and, as Jean Paul puts it. 
 
178 TUE OENICii OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 " lies down to his dreams again, because he has lost nothing 
 but sleep." 
 
 No amount of encouragement and assertion can reach a 
 sublime achievement. Plodding labor will never do it. 
 Nothing short of a nature fitly furnished for it can attain it. 
 You had as well tell a child he could pull a railroad train as 
 to tell the ordinar}' man he could do the work of a Hum- 
 boldt. If he will undergo the sacrifices of Audubon, and 
 possesses his perseverance and temperament, he may accom- 
 plish what he did; but no number ot' " I wills " can do the 
 work. When a man can stay in the saddle eighteen hours 
 out of twenty-four, and retain his intellectual \igor unim- 
 paired, he then may attempt to measure strides with 
 Napoleon. If he hold Tasso's " spirit " and passion in his 
 breast, he may undertake the sublime cantos. If there is a 
 river in his kingdom flowing with gold, then may he aflect 
 the lavish expenditure of Croesus. But to point the youth 
 of the land to the height of these lonel}- impossibles, and 
 assure them they can wear the same crown if they but 
 desire it, when they are not governed by the same incen- 
 tives, circumstances, or mental prowess, is the sheerest folly. 
 Contempt of all preferment is not a trait of the American 
 youth. The bo}- does not exist at sixteen }ears of age, but 
 " visions of glor}- dance o\-er his mind." Ambition burns as 
 unceasingly in his breast as the sacred fire on Vesta's altar. 
 Every one has the thousands he will make ahead}' num- 
 bered, or the position he will attain to definitely marked out. 
 These men do not realize that increasing this ambition, with- 
 out giving the ability to satisfy it, is filling the states with a 
 restless and dissatisfied legion of men who feel that the 
 world does not appreciate them. 
 
 All positions in life are alike useful and honorable. Differ- 
 
ORIGIN ALITY. 179 
 
 ent vocations require a different quality of intellect rather 
 than a difference in quantity. It is not the work that makes 
 the dishonor; it is the man that goes into the work. Respect 
 3'our work and yourself, and others will respect you and 
 your work. The most despised calling is brought into 
 respect by the integrity of its professors. A stone-cutter 
 may be the companion of philosophers; a blacksmith a uni- 
 versal linguist ; a coal-miner the flower of the drawing-room. 
 Give no regard to the occupation — 
 
 ' The rank is but the guinea stamp ; 
 The man's the gowd for a' that.' 
 
 No man knows what his powers are until he has been put 
 on trial. You may be made for great things or small, but 
 you will never know until you have a fair test. Men of 
 great talents are always the last ones to find it out; they 
 say, with Hazlitt, that " it's nothing but hard work." Don't 
 worry yourself over Peter the Great or Christopher Colum- 
 bus, but put in your mightiest elTorts on the work you have 
 to do. Sir Joshua Reynolds says: "If a man has great 
 talents, industry will improve them; if he has but moderate, 
 industry will supply their deficiency." The more limited 
 your powers, the greater need of culti\"ating your " original- 
 ity." Your achicN-ements may not equal those of others, 
 but, being original, they will be striking and attractive, and 
 save you from failure. 
 
 What if you do not sit on the "throne.'' " A man may 
 be a grand lawyer, and never rank with Choate or Evarts; 
 he may sway millions with his pen, and fall far short of 
 Ruskin or Everett in elegance and force; he may be a 
 princely merchant, and not have half the trade of Claflin or 
 ShilHtto. 
 
 Finally, don't be content to wear the clothes of some one 
 
180 
 
 THE GENIUS OP INDUSTRY. 
 
 else. Don't receive any man as an example, except for 
 inspirational power. Don't depend on your genius. Don't 
 live in the old ruts. Don't build air-castles. Fix your eye 
 on destiny's star, and 
 
 " To your own self be true." 
 


 "The government of the people, by the people, and for the people, shall 
 not perish from the face of the earth." 
 
HOMAS LINCOLN lived in a wretched log cabin 
 in Kentucky. Education he had none; he could 
 never either read or write. He was a generous, 
 warm hearted, good-natured man, with but little efficienc}'. 
 Learning there was a cloud on the title of his forty-acre 
 farm, he traded the place for ten barrels of whisk}^ and 
 twenty dollars cash. A fiat boat with the whisky capsized, 
 and the proceeds of the farm floated down the Ohio river. 
 Thomas then loaded his remaining goods into a three-horse 
 wagon and moved to Indiana, where land at that time 
 was not worth a cloud on the title, and liquid merchandise 
 was free from peril of water. Mrs. Lincoln was a woman 
 of unusual attainments for that locality; a pure woman, 
 gentle, loving, created to adorn a palace, doomed to a life 
 of toil and poverty in a hovel. In the new, cheerless and 
 comfortless home, with the nearest neighbor five miles 
 away, and no one save a ten year old son within hailing 
 distance of her refined and delicate nature, she sank and 
 died beneath the burdens she could not bear. 
 
 After the}' had buried her in the grove near the house, 
 Abraham, her son, now ten years old, wrote Parson Elkin 
 
184 THE GENIUS OF INDUSTllY. 
 
 to come and preach her funeral. The good man, out of 
 regard for the quality of the dead that lay over there in 
 strange soil, rode a hundred miles through the forest to 
 wait on that last rite. The settlers had caught an under- 
 standing of the character of the new neighbor, and two 
 hundred of them, from a region of twenty miles around, 
 assembled at the service. There stood the log cabin alone 
 in its solitude; the wide-spread prairie stretching its undula- 
 tions beyond the vision like the waves of a shoreless sea; 
 the grove; the grave; the group seated around upon logs 
 and stumps; the venerable man of God; the mourning 
 famil}-; and the boy Abraham, with his marked figure and 
 strangely old face, his e}'es swimming with tears, gazing 
 upon the scenes that paid the last tribute of earth to his 
 mother, and whose soul was the only one in all the wide 
 world that had ever touched his with a throb of love and 
 understanding. 
 
 The boy turned from that grave disconsolate. Like the 
 Roman, his heart was " in the coffin there." He had formed 
 acquaintance with his first great sorrow; it had come early 
 and settled upon the bloom of his young years; it tinged 
 his features with an air of care; shadowed his life with a 
 melanchol}' unto the end, and pervaded his casket, when, 
 amidst the tears of the nation and the mourning of the 
 world, they laid him to rest in that splendid sarcophagus at 
 Springfield. Men are not always masters of their fate, but 
 if they do not wrest a real victory out of an adverse for- 
 tune, the fault is more in themselves than in their stars. The 
 calamities and struggles that fall on a young life serve to 
 deepen and strengthen the central core of the character, if 
 there is real worth there. Their real helplessness under the 
 strokes of outrageous fortune becomes a helpfulness— their 
 
ABRAHAM LINCOLN. 185 
 
 powers defeated, and driven back into themsehes, lend 
 tlieir sinews to the one strong principle of the nature; just 
 as when the eye loses its sight its energies go over to the 
 ear and the capacity for hearing is powerfully increased in 
 strength and delicacy. When a man complains of some 
 misfortune, or povert}', or lack of opportunity for education 
 that weighted his earlier life, and hence kept him from 
 achieving what he appears destined for, the chances are, 
 that when his energies went back to his rallying proint, they 
 found there was not enough ground to build on for a life 
 fight. 
 
 Few 3"ouths have ever had the lines of fate drawn on 
 them from every angle of trial so completely as young 
 Lincoln. The poverty of the family was so wretched that 
 they could not afford a purchased bed in which to sleep; the 
 rudeness of that bed was an index of their kind of life — the 
 head and one side of the bedstead were formed by an angle 
 of the cabin itself. The bed-post standing out into the 
 room was a single crotch, cut from the forest ; laid upon the 
 crotch were two hickory sticks, whose other extremities 
 were morticed into the logs, the two sides of the cabin and 
 the two rails embracing a quadrilateral space of the required 
 dimensions. This was bridged by slats rived from the 
 forest logs, and on the slats was laid a sack filled with dried 
 leaves. This was the bed of the father and mother, and 
 into it, when the skins hung at the cabin doorway did not 
 keep out the cold, Abraham crept for the warmth which 
 his still ruder couch upon the ground denied him. 
 
 As the energies of his life were put forth they were being 
 beaten back from every direction; when they fell back to 
 the rallying point they found enough ground to build on for 
 a life fight; it was not the kind of ground that was found 
 
186 THE GENIUS OP INDL'STRY. 
 
 in Robert Bruce when misfortune visited him, neither was 
 it the kind that showed itseU' when Horace Greeley, shoe- 
 less and coatless, first walked into New York city. The 
 central ground of Lincoln's character was a moral integrity, 
 the practical moral side of ever}^ problem in life was all 
 that ever presented itself to him, he had a genuine integrity 
 of human nature that wept at the sight of a beggar, and 
 yet a heart that would not break under any fate. When a 
 man's life becomes embodied in such a principle, when he 
 becomes the personified principle, it makes him a peculiar 
 man. There are not man}' like him. A great man}' men 
 possess this element, but not in so marked a degree that it 
 becomes their controlling characteristic. When a man's 
 being is centered at this point he is in a fair way to go to 
 his grave unhonored and unsung. It is not a brilliant qual 
 ity nor a very telling one on the world. Every community 
 has one or more such characters ; they are a standing menace 
 to wrong doers, and a check on the fast elements of society. 
 They are a mighty, silent force; their qualities are worthy 
 of emulation and their influence is always respectable. 
 They know they are of some worth and so do their fellows, 
 and yet it is the most difficult element with which one can 
 lift himself above the rank it gives him of a substantial 
 citizen. Such men can not drive down any avenue of life 
 and make themselves very great or \er}' powerful. It is 
 only in certain epochs that they have a calling which becomes 
 illustrious. When that epoch moves upon a people or a 
 cause, this character must take the helm or the lustre of 
 destiny is lost. 
 
 We. find an illustrious example of this characteristic in 
 the life of Mr. John Hampden, the renowned leader of the 
 Long Parliament, the first of those great English common- 
 
ABRAHAM LINCOLN. 187 
 
 ers whose plain addition of Mister has to our ears a more 
 majestic sound than the proudest of the feudal titles. He 
 was one of those lonely instances of great men, who 
 neither seek nor shun greatness, who found glor}' only 
 because glory lay in the plain path of duty. Young 
 Lincoln gave preinonitions of none but the Hampden 
 qualities. He was industrious, strong-minded, clear headed, 
 always recognized as older than his years ; beyond this he 
 was never known as a bright, promising youth. Young 
 Pitt delivered an entertaining oration when ten years old ; 
 Lincoln wrote a letter asking a minister to preach his 
 mother's funeral. Murillo touched his brush on the canvas 
 with the hand of a master at the age of ten 3'ears; Lincoln 
 had never touched the work of any kind of a master beyond 
 his mother's Bible. At the age of ten Hannibal had sworn 
 eternal enmity to Rome, was studying tactics and training 
 with Hamlicar in the battalions; Lincoln was trimming the 
 tops of the trees in the clearing. 
 
 We search through his entire history as a child and youth, 
 and come back without finding a single gem that the 
 world's popular judgment pronounces indicative of the man 
 whose fame was to fill all lands. The child is father of the 
 man in most instances. We must confess some notable ex- 
 ceptions, as in the case of Palissy and also of Charles XII 
 of Sweden. But the established view may be received with 
 much more certainty than would appear at the first sug- 
 gestion. Orators, musicians, poets, artists, machinists have 
 their predilections along a path so separate from the mass 
 of men, that if their powers are unusual and phenomenal, 
 they are at once recognized, and all acquaintances begin to 
 prophes}' their future, and the training of all the developing 
 years is turned upon this natural endowment, but the abili- 
 
188 THE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 ties that moA'e on the plane of integrity and principle are so 
 surrounded b}' a multitude of such lights, that no one is dis- 
 cernable from another, they form a milky way in their part 
 of the spheres. The truly useful and good men of the world 
 move in this milky way; a great crisis and the stern call of 
 duty is needed to bring them to view. 
 
 George Washington was made of this splendid material, 
 from which the world's idols are carved, but taxation with- 
 out representation and the heel of the t3"rant on a million 
 citizens, was necessar}- to give him to the Colonies, and all 
 the possibilities that were in him. Phenomenal men are 
 more creatures of curiosity and occasions for wonderment 
 than they are of building any great values into the public 
 good. Men who control legislative assemblies, who write 
 the laws of the nation, who shape the course of wise enter- 
 prises, who restrain the excesses of a nation in its da}' of 
 triumph, are alwa}s prudent, self-poised, deliberate men. 
 Their quality is trul}' phenomenal, but lacking the bravery 
 and dash usually ascribed to genius, we reckon them as not 
 phenomenal, but the qualities are those out of which are 
 constructed the world's most successful men. Failing in 
 those prophetic elements which make one restless for great 
 achievements, they are content to devote their energies to 
 whatever duty falls to their lot; hence they are always re- 
 warded with uncommon results in their, undertakings. They 
 never know the nipping frosts of an over-leaping ambition. 
 If called to a great action, falling in a line of dut}', they dis- 
 charge it, unmindful of its heroism, with the conscientious 
 conviction of duty, and thus unconsciously pass to achieve- 
 ment and renown. 
 
 When moral integrit}' is the center of the character, and 
 every other quality revolves around and is subordinate to it. 
 
ABRAHAM LINCOLN. 189 
 
 a life opening with adverse fate, and its whole career in- 
 volved in a struggle, is more perfectly developed for action 
 than if unused to trials and pampered by luxury. The un- 
 folding of Lincoln's early years was in the severest penury. 
 He did not know what it was to have a child's wants sup- 
 plied; he was a stranger to the gratification of a boy's 
 whims where expense was implied. A delicate and pensive 
 nature, instinct with soul refinement, gazed into the face of 
 a father, whose highest scholastic attainment was to rudely 
 form the letters that composed his own name, without know- 
 ing the value of one of them. The only being he had ever 
 met whose fingers could touch and sweep across the thous- 
 and strings of this harp in the wilderness had been chilled 
 into death b}- the same kind of fate that was now icing over 
 his life. The future that opened before him stretched along 
 without any sunlight or promise of morning. Had Homer 
 been surrounded b}' wealth, and Greece been free of ene- 
 mies, the songs would never have been written that in ages 
 to come will be the only voice left to point the glories of 
 that people. Could Milton have seen the light of day, his 
 paradise would have been with statesmen and his wars with 
 politicians; shut up in darkness by a great misfortune, his 
 deeper nature was opened up and filled the world with im- 
 mortal verse. 
 
 Abraham at an early day became a reader. With scant 
 school advantages and no companionships that could interest 
 him, he found in books his friends and instructors. The 
 majority of the settlers around him were entirely illiterate, 
 and when it became known that Mr. Lincoln's boy could 
 not only read, but could write also, his services were in fre- 
 quent demand by them in sending letters to the friends back 
 in the States. The training he failed to receive at school in 
 
190 THE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 this direction was here fortunately suppHed b}' the needs of 
 this primitive comniunit}\ School compositions are too 
 often the result of great labor, and are usually made of a 
 number of sentences borrowed from various books and 
 strung together with the valuable assistance of conjunctions, 
 used in an original way. Unless there is a large nati\e gift 
 at writing the school exercises are but a feeble source of 
 cultivation. There is more early development in friendly 
 letter-writing than in any forced training. The 3-oung 
 amanuensis took the awkward sentences of his rustic dictat- 
 ors, and as the lioness licks her cubs into shape, so he 
 framed plain and straight-forward statements, the meaning 
 of which no one could misunderstand. Taught in this 
 school of nature, unhampered by artificial surroundings, his 
 whole after life of speech and pen was characterized by a 
 direct, distinct, homely method of statement which was not 
 crude, for it was clear; not burdened, for it was natural, and 
 which was at once the admiration and the teacher of the 
 learned and the illiterate. 
 
 There is much dissipation in reading in these days. With 
 from one to three daily papers in each house, and as many 
 weeklies, and as man}- magazines, the mind has a surfeit of 
 literature and soon establishes a habit of reading every arti- 
 cle and book in that same hap-hazard way that it glances 
 over the morning news while waiting for breakfast. With 
 too great an abundance of reading matter the tendency is 
 strong to hast}' perusal, and a careless reader soon becomes 
 a loose thmker. Harriet Martineau was very near to 
 wholesome advice when she told a young lady to " check 
 this reading gluttony; we must first master ourselves, and 
 select one book, determining not to read another that 
 year, and not read over three pages a' day in it." If six 
 
ABRAHAM LINCOLN. 191 
 
 books written by students who ha\e forged the observations 
 and experiments of a Hfe-time into a few clear and practical 
 principles, be slowly read and well digested, they will be of 
 more real value than a whole Bodleian library devoured 
 after the customary fashion. 
 
 The youth of Lincoln was fortunately shut out from 
 omniverous reading. The Bible was his first book. So 
 profound an impression did this first reading make upon his 
 mind that he was e\'er after able to repeat many of its 
 pages, while his speeches frequently abounded in its apt 
 illustrations. He then read ^Esop's fables. Their quaint 
 simplicity and striking justice were so favorably adapted to 
 him that he was soon able to repeat all of them. He then 
 came into possession of Pilgrim's Progress, and Weems' Life 
 of Washington, and shortly before her death his mother 
 purchased for him a life of Henry Clay. These books 
 gave meat to his hungry mind. The Bible, ^Esop and Bun- 
 yan — the richest library could not have furnished him three 
 better books. The po\'erty of his books was the wealth of 
 his life. Cfesar and Gustavus Adolphus would have grown 
 lean on such feeding, but Garibaldi and. Washington would 
 have grown truthful men and earnest patriots from it. These 
 books did much to form a character, which for its simplicit}', 
 its earnestness and purity, stands illustrious with the historic 
 personages of the world. In the life of Washington he 
 found a lofty example of patriotism, and learned how much 
 of personal toil and sacrifice was woven into American his- 
 tory. 
 
 The life of Henry Clay came to him as a living voice. 
 He was then in the zenith of all his splendid powers and 
 wonderful influence. He was the idol of American hearts 
 as few men can ever hope to be. He swaj'cd his audiences 
 
192 THE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY 
 
 by a majesty of eloquence unapproachable in its influence 
 over the masses, and supported, as by a mighty buttress, 
 with a life so fervent and noble in its patriotism that it 
 would have been written great even in the absence of 
 achievement. Clay had risen to political and professional 
 eminence from circumstances almost as humble as his own. 
 This undoubtedly did much to excite his taste for politics. 
 He was very young when he read the life of Washington, 
 and we catch a glimpse of his precocit}' in the thoughts 
 which it excited, as revealed by himself in a speech made to 
 the New Jersey Senate. Alluding to his earl}- reading of 
 this book, he says: ''I remember all the accounts there 
 given of the battle fields and struggles for the liberties of 
 the country, and none fixed themselves upon my imagination 
 so deeply as the struggle here at Trenton. * * I recol- 
 lect thinking then, boy even though I was, that there must 
 have been something more than common that those men 
 struggled for." Two years later Ramsey's Life of Washing- 
 ton was borrowed from his teacher, Andrew Crawford. A 
 circumstance connected therewith illustrates a characteristic 
 trait of honesty. The borrowed book was left in an open 
 window. A shower coming on it was wet and nearly 
 ruined. Abraham carried it to Mr. Crawford in great grief 
 and alarm, and offered to pay for it in labor. Mr. Crawford 
 let the lad " pull fodder " three days to pa}' for the book, 
 which thus became one of his own literary treasures. 
 
 Somewhat more than a year after the death of Mrs. Lin- 
 coln, Abraham passed into the care of a step-mother. She 
 brought with her from her Kentucky home three children, 
 the fruit of her previous marriage. The two families grew 
 up in harmony together. The new mother always proved 
 a tender and helping friend to Abraham. He cherished her 
 
ABRAHAM LINCOLN. 193 
 
 with the fondness of a son, and the first fi\'e hundred dollars 
 he received as a legal fee he presented to her. Their 
 attachment continued unbroken until his death. She saw 
 her young charge rise to be her own ruler, and the ruler of 
 the nation, and to fall amid expressions of grief from the 
 whole civilized world. 
 
 Young Lincoln grew up an increasing helpfulness to his 
 father on the farm. We find him at the age of eighteen an 
 awkward, over-grown, country lad. He had spent but a 
 few months at school; he knew no language but his own, 
 and did not know a noun from a qualifj'ing adjective, but 
 he was pushing along the up-hill road of self-education with 
 the courage of a hero. That which was much more the 
 real essence of his self-education, was the never-ceasing 
 course of laborious thought and reasoning that he kept up 
 upon the meaning, the connection, the tendency, the right 
 and wrong, the helps or remedies, of all the past facts he 
 read of, or of the present facts he experienced in life. This 
 education he began early, pursued etfectivel}', and never 
 ceased it. He only studied for practical knowledge and 
 practical wisdom. He would have been restless under col- 
 lege tutelage, and never would have graduated in the " regu- 
 lar course." Greek and Latin for mere scholarship, and the 
 whole hve years curriculum for the improving and training 
 of the mind, he would have impatiently swept aside as a use- 
 less fabric. Every thing he knew was practical, and he 
 studied a book or thing, only that he might make use of it. 
 His practice was to write out an analysis of every book he 
 read, and then rehearse portions of it in a conversational 
 wa}', to the members of the family or some companion he 
 might chance to interest in this direction. His store-house 
 of information was not very large at this age, but he could 
 
194 THE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 successfully, by word of mouth, have transferred the entire 
 invoice to a philosopher, and have dotted it with observa- 
 tions and criticisms, so original and valuable as to have 
 charmed the autocrat of the breakfast table. A " hired 
 man " who had sat at the log fires and heard him talk, said 
 ''he was the likeliest boy in God's world.'' 
 
 Young men reach an epoch in their lives, generally at 
 about the age of eighteen, when they grow restive of the 
 restraints that bind them at home, and long for an oppor- 
 tunity to take their craft out into the great waters and try 
 a sail for themselves. It was under this impulse Vander- 
 bilt began to row passengers across the Hudson, and he 
 kept on obe}'ing its promptings, and success kept with him, 
 until he pontooned the oceans with his steamers and latticed 
 the continent with his railroads. If a }oung man has 
 promptings in a given direction he ought to be permitted to 
 tr\' them, and if they work to a satisfactory issue, he should 
 pursue their leading. The men who in early life follow their 
 bo3-ish predilections, beginning in the crude and informal 
 stages of some business, and step into its larger transac- 
 tions as the}' gather experience and ability, grow from a row 
 boat to a commodore with Vanderbilt, from the captain of 
 a school-boy squad to the leader of an empire's armies with 
 Wellington. Lincoln was growing restless of his secluded 
 country life; echoes from the busy world were beginning to 
 come to his hearing, and he longed to mingle in a life of 
 greater dignity and significance than was possible in his 
 primitive community. He could at least reach the world 
 h\ helping his father to a better market for his farm pro- 
 ducts. He accordingly built a boat, with his own hands, to 
 carry the farm produce to some trading post down the river. 
 
 One morning standing by his boat at the landing, two 
 
ABRAHAM LINCOLN. 195 
 
 men came down to the shore and wished to be taken out to 
 a steamer in the river. The young boatman sculled them 
 out with their baggage, and each of them presented him 
 \vith a sil\"er half-dollar. Mr. Lincoln frequently referred 
 to this incident, for it was the tirst money he had ever 
 earned, and the first dollar he had claimed as his own. He 
 said, "I could scarcely believe my e3'es; it was a most 
 important incident in ni}- life; I had earned a dollar; the 
 world seemed wider and fairer before me; I was more hope- 
 ful and confident from that time." 
 
 The next year he made his second venture in navigation 
 and caught a fuller glimpse of the great world. Such had 
 come to be his reputation for capacit}' and integrity, that a 
 trading neighbor applied to him to take charge of a flat- 
 boat and float its cargo to New Orleans, a distance of eigh- 
 teen hundred miles. Such a venture to him at that time 
 would be much akin to asking a Brooklj-n ferryman to sail 
 a Cunarder to Liverpool. Life is not all made up of training 
 and experience. Much of it, to the men who win, is a ven- 
 ture. It is that instantaneous quality, when a place is 
 opened, that knows its own possibilities, and vaults to the 
 seat, and taking up the lines over an untried team, drives 
 straight up to the " station." If Nelson could not have been 
 ready to set sail at three o'clock the same day he was called 
 upon to take command of the fleet, he never could have won 
 England's \-ictory and established her supremac}^ on the seas. 
 Tlie 3'oung backwoodsman, who had reached the remark- 
 able height of six feet and four inches, swung loose from the 
 shore upon his clums}' craft, and with a boundless delight, 
 drifted to the current, conscious that he could float the cargo 
 and transact the business of his employer. 
 
 There had been no eventful circumstances to disting-uish 
 
196 THE OENIUS OF INDUSTUT. 
 
 Abraham's life up to this time. No surrounding intiucnce 
 had retarded or developed his charaeter. He was as free 
 as nature. He had followed the bent of his own will abso- 
 lutely untrammeled. He had ploughed corn in the summer, 
 and cut cord-wood and split rails in the winter. He was 
 filled with the knowledge of seven books that he had read 
 over and o\-er, and was free of^ the dissipating influences 
 that so uniformly mar the development of young men. 
 With a constitution as firm and tiexiblc as whip-cord, and a 
 nature as clean as Joan of Arc, when she left the hillside and, 
 joining the head of the armj^, hurled its wavering squares 
 against the enemies of France, he was prepared to go forth 
 and begin a contest with destin}'. 
 
 He was twenty-one A^ears of age; what chance had he.'*' 
 Good native abilit}' and integrit}' of character must be 
 pushed, if they attain recognition, even under the most 
 favorable surroundings. AVith only these, and no fiash of 
 genius to adorn them, a life on the river and in the forest 
 opened up to his unfolding manhood no primrose path. At 
 this age Calhoun was burning oil at midnight in a renowned 
 college, Webster was an accepted orator, and Charles James 
 Fox had aroused the attention of the nation by his eloquence 
 in Parliament. Twenty-one is the formative age of life. It is 
 at that period one feels himself a man for the first time, and 
 all the world recognizes him as such. He is now launched 
 onto the sea of self dependence; if a right start is made it 
 augurs favorably; if a wrong start is made, it niay require 
 an entire life time to retrieve it. The bent the character 
 may assume or the form the business habits may take 
 at this period of ripening are liable to give direction to all 
 the after years. 
 
 Too high an estimate cannot easily be placed upon educa- 
 
ay/Td-l^'^^'^^ 
 
ABRAHAM LINCOLN. 197 
 
 tion to train the mind and drill it into lasting and useful 
 habits; but too low an estimate cannot be placed upon 
 educators choosing for their pupils their life calling. A 
 student's aptitude in mathematics is no indication he will 
 make a successful merchant; his celerit}' in composition is 
 not evidence he will make a respectable editor. Educators 
 are the brain builders and mind trainers of our land; but 
 their very occupation of dealing with text books and teach- 
 ing b}- the tread-mill of accepted authorities precludes them 
 from that practical judgment necessary to put a raw racer 
 on the great track. The general uprising of desire for a 
 certain calling, that has been cropping out all along the 
 experience, will, in most instances, have so far formed a 
 purpose b}' this time that there will be little excuse lor the 
 runner to miss his direction. 
 
 Abraham knew that something must be done. He had 
 come to that age when it was required he should choose his 
 vocation and give himself to it. When the turning point of 
 life comes it is necessary to settle on and act along some 
 definite course, else the concentrating forces of the man 
 begin to waver, no edge comes to the actions, he drifts aim- 
 lessly, and unless righted early, flounders and goes down in 
 a smooth sea, when a chart and a pilot could have carried 
 him safely. But there was a duty here to father and famil}-, 
 that must be yielded to for a day. Once more Thomas 
 Lincoln loaded his goods in wagons and sought a new home. 
 This time on the Sangamon River, near Decatur, Illinois. 
 Again a home was hewed from the forest. Most of the 
 planks " rived " for this house were the workmanship of 
 Abraham, for his dexterous hand could cleave that oak 
 timber better than the father who was now advancing 
 in years. He then split the rails and fenced in a lot of ten 
 
198 THE GENIUS C)F INDUSTRT. 
 
 acres. After breaking up the piece of enclosed prairie, and 
 planting it with- corn, he announced to his father that he had 
 "hired out " and would now "do for himself." 
 
 There was an immediate necessity for clothing and a 
 present li\elihood, which absolutel}' debarred him from an}- 
 undertaking of a larger range. He must do what his hands 
 found to do. He made a bargain with Mrs. Nancy Miller 
 to split four hundred rails for every }'ard of brown jeans, 
 dyed with white walnut bark, that would be necessary 
 to make him a pair of trowsers. Reports vary as to the 
 number, but it is established that INIrs. Miller got several 
 hundred rails made for that jeans. 
 
 It was about this time that a trusty young man was 
 wanted by Denton OfTutt to take a flat-boat to New Orleans. 
 Abraham was selected, and made his second trip down the 
 Mississippi. The vo3"age and business were so successfully 
 conducted that his emplo3'er decided to place him in charge 
 of his store and 'mill at New Salem. Preferment, that 
 comes because of faithfulness to dut}', is as natural an 
 advancement as the growth of a tree year by year. There 
 are few men but are conscious of the value to them of those 
 in their emplo3'ment. Men who handle men, like command- 
 ing generals, soon learn the worth of those under them. 
 The man who controls his business successfulh- possesses an 
 intuitive faculty of selecting his assistants. McClellan 
 failed at the head of the Union army because he did not 
 know men, although he was an able ofBcer; Grant suc- 
 ceeded, though weak in many of McClellan's strong points, 
 because he never failed in putting the right man in the right 
 place. The very necessities of a large business interest 
 demand trusty and competent men to carry out its details. 
 These proprietors will keep and advance valuable assistants, 
 
ABRAHAM LIXCOLX. 199 
 
 because the business can not aflbrd to lose that much integ- 
 rity and capacity. The employed are often discontented 
 witli their slow advancement, and break loose from their 
 present position to try something that promises better. The 
 experience of this class is that the new venture does not 
 prove satisfactory, and the day comes when they see that 
 refusing to let well enough alone marked the start of a 
 downward move they have never been able to retrieve. 
 
 The testimony of the largest number of our business men 
 who have attained unusual results is, that their advancement 
 was tryingly slow, but never coming to the time when they 
 were willing to exchange a bird in the hand for two in the 
 bush ; they held on and worked, and at the end of a quarter 
 of a century they could see that they had grown to a place 
 and affluence that compensated for the toil and harrassment 
 of all those 3'ears. INIany of these men are occupying lucra- 
 tive places in the great houses of the cities. They have so 
 woven themselves into the various branches of the manage- 
 ment, that they have become a part of its warp and woof. 
 They have become really partners in the direction and con- 
 trol of its affairs, and the proprietors finally, although it 
 may be tardily, recognize what they have put into the 
 capital stock, and render them a just per cent, of the profits. 
 To wait gracefully requires great business tact, but it sel- 
 dom fails to bring a valuable return. 
 
 Whatever may have been lacking in the qualities of 
 Abraham Lincoln, honesty was always one of his virtues. 
 His views ma}' have often been puritanical, but he was 
 consistent with himself and severely just. On the same 
 principle that Mr. Clay would rather be right than be Pres- 
 ident, Mr. Lincoln sought to do right, without thought of 
 the reputation it won him, or regard for a misunderstanding 
 
200 TUB GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 of himself. He never perpetrated a conscious injustice on 
 any man, nor slumbered over night without rectifying a 
 mistake he may have committed. The amount involved 
 did not influence him, it was that a wrong was being 
 endured from his hand. On one occasion, in the store, after 
 the day's sales, he found he had charged a lady six and a 
 quarter cents too much. He closed the store and walked 
 two miles to her house and returned her the overcharge. 
 This conscientious exactness of dealing characterized his 
 whole life. 
 
 Mixed with this stern justice was a large share of the 
 rugged frontier element. A neighborhood bully created a 
 disturbance in the store one day in the presence of some 
 ladies. Lincoln, after failing to quiet him, remarked that 
 when the ladies were gone he would attend to his case; 
 this was what the fellow wanted, for he had long held a 
 grudge against the young merchant. When the ladies left 
 the store, Lincoln said : " Well, if you must be whipped, I 
 suppose I may as well whip you as any other man." Out 
 of doors they went; one brawn>' blow brought the bully 
 down, and, holding him down with his knees and one hand, 
 Lincoln pulled some "smart weed" from the patch into 
 which he had knocked him, and rubbed it into the face and 
 eyes of his victim, until he cried "nuff." Lincoln got up 
 without a particle of anger, washed the crushed fighter's 
 face and eyes, gave him a bit of good advice, and e\er 
 after found him a fast friend. 
 
 The year in Offutt's store not only ser^•ed to de\elop 
 some of the rough and ready qualities of the young fron- 
 tiersman, but being now in a communit}' where books were 
 more plentiful, the many idle hours, that are a part of the 
 life of all countr}- stores, were occupied in valuable reading. 
 
ABliAUAil LIS COLS. 201 
 
 Debating clubs were much in vogue around Salem, and they 
 proved a source of great culti\'ation to him. He would 
 sometimes walk six miles to a club, but there is no record 
 that he ever distinguished himself in debate, be3-ond the 
 fact that the "boys liked to hear him talk." Thus he grew, 
 some respected his brains, and some admired the man, and 
 everybody trusted him. It was here he became "Honest 
 Abe;" he was authority, jury and judge in all disputes; he 
 was umpire from Bible debates to horse races; he was the 
 most unassuming and gentlest, the kindest and roughest 
 young fellow in all New Salem and the region round about. 
 
 The Black Hawk war occurred in 1832. Mr. Oftutt 
 having failed in business, Abraham, being out of emplo}- 
 ment, was among the tirst to volunteer in the company that 
 was being raised in his count}^ the "Clary's Grove Boys," 
 a band of bolstering rowdies, who claimed to be the 
 "Regulators" of that section of the country and who did 
 almost anything short of highway robbery, had conceived a 
 great admiration for "Honest Abe," and through their 
 eftbrts Mr. Lincoln was elected captain of the company. 
 This war was not remarkable for making militar}- reputa- 
 tions, as it had no noteworthy battles. The soldiers returned 
 to Sangamon county just ten days before the election, and 
 on his military popularity they forced their captain into the 
 field as a candidate for the Legislature. He was allied with 
 the Henry Clay interest and was accordingly defeated. 
 
 On returning from the war, Mr. Lincoln found a debt of 
 fonr hundred dollars and its accumulated interest, which 
 Berry should have paid, resting upon him. The purchase 
 of the store by Berry and Lincoln, of W. G. Green, as 
 related in Green's biography, proved an unfortunate venture 
 for the latter. Berry was a worthless scamp, and soon con- 
 
202 THE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 verted the proceeds of the store to his own use and left his 
 partner to care for the debts. The larger debt, which was 
 due Green, run for several years, but every dollar of it was 
 finall}- paid by Mr. Lincoln. He was greatl}' burdened by 
 that note; he. declared it was a nightmare that rode him 
 •nigh to death during the nights, and a spirit that haunted 
 him through the day. He always referred to it as the 
 "national debt." He felt it was a crime to be in debt. The 
 incubus that settled down over his opening manhood added 
 one more to the struggles that had thus far been his closest 
 companions. 
 
 Some men swim in debt, and appear to deem the bath a 
 luxury. Goldsmith fairly reveled in debt. He was dunned 
 for his milk score, arrested for rent, threatened by lawj-ers, 
 but he never recognized a creditor as having any rights he 
 was bound to respect. In the same month in which his 
 '' Vicar of Wakefield " was published, his bill of fifteen 
 guineas, drawn on Newberry, was returned dishonored. 
 When he was figuring at BoswelPs dinner in " the ratteen 
 suit lined with satin, and bloom-colored silk breeches," the 
 clothes belonged to his tailor, and remained unpaid for till 
 his death. Poor Burns, with all his loose ways, was the 
 soul of honor. He was driven almost distracted by a debt 
 of seven pounds, for which he was dunned during his illness, 
 and wrote a most imploring letter to his publisher to advance 
 him the amount "for God's sake," and when he got well 
 again he would furnish him with seven pounds worth of the 
 '' neatest song genius " he had ever seen. He died shortly 
 after, and his last poem was in payment of this loan. Chat- 
 terton, more sensitive still, reduced to a state of starvation 
 and despair, bv his debts, poisoned himself at the age of 
 eighteen. With a debt that had grown to be five hundred dol- 
 
ABRAHAM LINCOLN. 203 
 
 lars, and no way to discharge it, except by working for thirty- 
 seven cents a day, Lincoln felt it was a load great enough 
 for a nation, and while it depressed, it did not produce a 
 debtor's distraction nor debt recklessness, but tightened the 
 reins of a well-trained economy and deepened the determi- 
 nation to " work the harder and pay it ofi"." 
 
 About this time Mr. Lincoln achieved his first political 
 success — he was appointed post-master. The office was too 
 insignificant for any one to want for its pay. Lincoln wanted 
 it so he could get newspapers to read. He could not afford 
 to be tied to the office in a house, so he made a post-office 
 of his hat. Whenever he went out, he placed the letters in 
 his hat. When an anxious looker found the post-master, 
 he had found the office; and the public officer taking off 
 his hat, looked over the mail wherever the public might 
 find him. 
 
 Biographies of great men, but especially of good men, 
 are instructive as guides and incentives to others. Some of 
 the best are almost equivalent to gospels. The examples 
 they furnish of patient purpose and steadfast integrity, 
 strongly illustrate what it is in the power of each to accom- 
 plish for himself. Great men have belonged to no exclusive 
 class in life. Apparently insuperable obstacles have, in 
 many instances among the lowly, awakened their dormant 
 faculties and evoked a stimulus that has carried them to ulti- 
 mate renown. The instances of success, in the face of 
 adverse fate, would seem almost to justify the conclusion 
 that " with self-reliance and a half a chance one can do any- 
 thing." Ney enlisted at eighteen in a hussar regiment; 
 Kleber soon surnamed him " the indefatigable," and at 
 twenty-five offered him the Adjutant-Generalcy ; without a 
 moment's hesitancy Ney "skipped the ranks of promotion," 
 
204 TEE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 and buckled on the sword of command. The}' said in Rus- 
 sia that Suwarrow was little; he was under live feet in 
 height, because from his boyhood he had been so constantly 
 undertaking something new he had not had time to grow. 
 Lincoln was not possessed ot' a restlessness that sought a 
 new thing, but he always felt able to discharge any duty 
 left to his care. When he was oftered a deput3--surveyor- 
 ship for the vicinity of New Salem, he at once accepted the 
 place, although he had no knowledge of surveying, and but 
 the slenderest acquaintance with the science upon which it 
 is based. He borrowed a cop}' of Flint and Gibson, and 
 shut himself" in his room to master the theory; when his 
 outfit for work came he was prepared for the field. The 
 accuracy of his surve3-s has seldom been called in question. 
 During these 3-ears an intimac}' had grown up between 
 Mr. Lincoln and W. G. Green, which was cherished warmly 
 by both. Green was possessed of keener perceptions than 
 Lincoln, and of a deeper insight into human nature. Lin- 
 coln took men at what they appeared to be. Green measured 
 them as they reall}' were. Lincoln studied books and prin- 
 ciples, Green circumstances and men. Lincoln was growing 
 into a philosopher and statesman, Green into a sagacious, 
 successful man of the world. Green gave Lincoln his first 
 lessons in grammar; Lincoln in turn would quote to him 
 more of Burns and Shakespeare than he had ever read. 
 Lincoln would discourse to Green on morals, warn him on 
 his growing tendency to gamble, and turn his thoughts to 
 books ; Green would instruct Lincoln by his original sugges- 
 tions on any subject, unveil to him the business side of the 
 world, and show him how to make a successful trade. Two 
 minds with opposite traits of character, but which are afiin- 
 
ABRAHAM LINCOLN. ' 205 
 
 ities in social intercourse, inay become a David and Jonathan 
 to each other and each help the other to an empire. 
 
 To be truly popular one must deserve it and win it, not 
 play for it. The world sees through e3'es having a very 
 powerful lens; it will dally with the man that flatters, and 
 pay attention to the man that shifts his sails to every breeze, 
 if doing so helps along a good cause, but in the long run it 
 turns on such men with a crushing rebuke, and hands over 
 its substantial favors to the men of merit and metal. Mr. 
 Gladstone has achieved his exalted influence in English 
 atlairs without the falsehoods, or pretense, or the arts of the 
 demagogue. He has won his place and power by the 
 strength of his plain, transparent character, and his disinter- 
 ested patriotism. lie has aroused no jealousies, for he is 
 not selfish. He has made no enemies, for he feels kindly 
 towards every man. People are glad to see him rise, for it 
 seems just that he should rise. 
 
 The straight-forward and open-faced course of Mr. Lin- 
 coln had brought to him the hearty admiration of that pio- 
 neer settlement. All seemed glad to help him along. He 
 had nothing only plent\- of friends. Johnson knew what it 
 was to be without friends until he had conquered the world. 
 But Johnson was so great he could conquer all odds. Coler- 
 idge, on the other hand, would ha\ e sunk and died if Southe}' 
 had not sheltered his famih' and given his wandering years 
 a home. Lincoln found friends whose generous words gave 
 his pensive nature a courage it probably could not otherwise 
 have had. 
 
 A man full of expedients needs no other kind of riches. 
 With a store-house of practical expedients, the battles of 
 lite are alread}' half fought. Sheridan, with a genius that 
 could dash off a play in a single night, was disarmed and 
 
206 TUB GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 rendered helpless by the slightest difficulties. Defoe pos- 
 sessed all the expedients for getting into difficulties known 
 to the most unfortunate men, and not a single resource to 
 keep himself out. With all his talent, and a genius to work 
 second onl}' to Walter Scott, he went lamely through life 
 and died miserably. Along 'the current of one's existence 
 every little distance circumstances are forming an eddy, and 
 there are currents and counter currents crossing his way, 
 and he becomes involved in spite of himself. One can not 
 escape these epochs of complications. When they do come 
 the genius of extraction is as Blucher to Wellington at 
 Waterloo. 
 
 Lincoln was a man of practical expedients. He always 
 found some way to get out of difficulties. The most dis- 
 heartening complications might bank up around him: whether 
 the}' were moral or mechanical, he was equally ingenious in 
 escaping each variety. Green says the first time that he 
 " ever saw Lincoln, he was in the Sangamon river, with his 
 trowsers rolled up five feet, more or less, trying to pilot a 
 fiat-boat over a milldam. The boat was so full of water it 
 was hard to manage; Lincoln got the prow over, and then 
 instead of waiting to bail the water out, bored a hole 
 through the projecting part and let it run out." His had 
 been a life of expedients. He had always to master emer- 
 gencies and make the best out of bad conditions. There is 
 a vast difference between a man of expedients and a man of 
 cunning. Lincoln was ingenious; wonderfully so; but he 
 was not cunning. Lord Beaconsfield was cunning, wonder- 
 . fully cunning. Cunning is, or tries to be, far sighted; inge- 
 nuity disposes of occasions. Cunning contrives plots; inge- 
 nuity dissolves them. Cunning sets traps; ingenuity evades 
 them. Cunning envelopes its \'ictims in difficulties; ingenu- 
 
ABRAHAM LINCOLN. 207 
 
 it}' helps them out of them. Cunning is the offspring of 
 selfishness; ingenuity is the child of practical wisdom. He 
 took his boat safely over a great many milldams during his 
 life, but alwa3's by an expedient. 
 
 In 1834 Mr. Lincoln became again a candidate for the 
 Legislature, and was elected. Major Stewart, an attorney 
 at Springfield, conceived a high opinion of the embr^'o 
 statesman, and offered to lend him whatever books he 
 needed. After the canvass was over, he walked to Spring- 
 field, a distance of sixteen miles, borrowed a load of books 
 of Stewart and took them home with him to New Salem. 
 He now, for the first time, found himself settled upon a life 
 calling, and began the study of law. He studied, while his 
 money lasted to pay for his board, and then would go on a 
 surveying tour and earn a further suppl}' to help him through 
 another period of study. He would sit day after da}', for 
 weeks, under an oak tree on a hillside, and read, moving 
 around to keep in the shade as the sun mo\ed. He became 
 so much absorbed, people thought him craz}'. He would 
 frequently pass his most intimate friends and not recognize 
 them, an astounding thing to do in a border communitv. 
 The matter with him was, a vast revolution was going on 
 in his life. Hitherto he had been reading for information 
 and love of it, but now he had settled to an aim, and his 
 energies were being whetted to the wire edge of a definite 
 purpose. Such a concentration of aim he had not known 
 before. It threw all his habits out of their rut, and started 
 them on a new path. He had found the pursuit of his life, 
 and was following its track in earnest. 
 
 A university course is of great advantage, but if the 
 student lack the genius of perseverence, the course can not 
 make him profound in his chosen profession. The man who 
 
208 THE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 has a will, can accomplish more with borrowed books, orb 
 the hillside, than will ever be achieved by the collegiates 
 who trust to the professors and the chosen curriculum. The 
 metal out of which a life is wrought is in the man rather 
 than in the cramming process of any teaching machines. 
 John Le3'den was a shepherd boy in a wild valley. Like 
 Hogg, who taught himself to write by copying the letters 
 of a printed book, as he la}' watching his flocks on the hill- 
 side; like Carins, who from tending sheep, raised himself by 
 dint of application, to a professor's chair; like Murry and 
 Furgason, Leyden was inspired by a thirst for knowledge. 
 As a boy he walked eight miles daily across the moors to 
 learn reading; and this was all the education he ever 
 received ; the rest he acquired for himself He found his 
 way to a bookseller's shop, and would sit and read all day, 
 unmindful of the meal of bread and water at his miserable 
 lodgings. He only asked to be admitted to books and lec- 
 tures. Thus he toiled and battled at the gates of learning, 
 until his unconquerable perseverance carried all before it. 
 At the age of nineteen he astounded the Edinburg profess- 
 ors by his profound knowledge of Greek and Latin, being 
 able to pass a senior examination. 
 
 When the time for the assembling of the Legislature 
 approached, Lincoln dropped his law books, shouldered his 
 pack, and, on foot, trudged one hundred miles to Vandalia, 
 the capital of the State, and made his entrance into public 
 life. As a member, he was extremely modest and retiring, 
 in his seat always and serving his duty faithfully. He 
 watched legislation as Erskine did the lawyers manage their 
 cases, but he seldom took a part in discussion. When the 
 session closed he walked home, and resumed his studies and 
 surveying. 
 
ABRAHA3/ LINCOLN. 209 
 
 In 1S36 he was a candidate for re-election to the Legisla- 
 ture. The canvass was an unusuall}- exciting one. The 
 new Whig party was then forming. Prestige and power 
 was with the old established part}'. In the breaking of the 
 old lines politicians were supposed to be non-committal, and 
 kept their sails trimmed for which e\'er breeze should sweep 
 the country. ]Mr. Lincoln knew nothing but principle, and 
 could not have been a political triminer if he had desired 
 such a calling. Earh' in the canvass he wrote a letter 
 to the Sangamon yournal, beginning as follows : " In }-our 
 paper of last Saturday I see a communication over the sig- 
 nature of ' INIany Voters,' in which the candidates who are 
 announced in the yotirnal are called upon to ' show their 
 hands.' Agreed. Here's mine." He then proceeded in 
 his characteristic way to "show his hand," which was that 
 of the Whig party, in a very decided way. 
 
 It was not until this canvass that he becaine aroused on 
 political questions, and bent to the attainment of the new 
 idea all his latent energies. He had been making political 
 speeches and working in politics for four years, but in this 
 contest he made his first development as a debater, and 
 gave hopes of building an endpring reputation. The oppos- 
 ing candidates met at Springfield, according to their custom, 
 to discuss the issues involved in the campaign. N. W. 
 Edwards, then a Whig, led off, and was followed b}' Dr. 
 Early, a sharp debater and a representative Democrat. 
 Early bore down heavily upon Edwards; so much so that 
 the latter wanted an immediate rejoinder, but Lincoln 
 demanded his turn, and took the platform. He began 
 slowly and with evident embarrassment, but he laid out his 
 propositions clearly, and it was apparent he understood his 
 own positions. He soon won the attention of his auditors, 
 
210 THE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 and elicited their surprise as he began to build around his 
 adversary a wall of fact, and then weave over him a net- 
 work of deductions so logically tight in all its meshes, that 
 there was no escape for the doughty doctor. He forgot 
 himself as he warmed to his work. His audience grew 
 enthusiastic, and applauded his telling hits, and rolled in 
 laughter as with ridicule and wit he riddled his helpless 
 opponent. Aroused, a complete transformation was wrought 
 in his appearance; the homely man became inajestic, the 
 plain, good natured face was full of expression, the long bent 
 figure was straight as an arrow, and the kind and dreamy 
 e3'es flashed with the fire of inspiration. The audience 
 stood before him like a vast ^Eolian harp, and he swept 
 their chords with a master's hand. It was music fit for the 
 Gods. The man who had split rails, guided a flat-boat, and 
 done whatever he could find to do for an honest li\ing was 
 an orator. 
 
 The Illinois Legislature of 1836 was conspicuous for hav- 
 ing an unusual number of men who became famous in after 
 years. The delegation from Sangamon County was 
 remarkable especially for its physical altitude; of the two 
 Senators and seven members of the House, not one of them 
 was under si.x: feet in height. They were consequently 
 known as the " lon'g nine." Mr. Lincoln was the tallest of 
 the number. He was now twenty-seven years of age. 
 Stephen A. Douglas was also a member, being twenty-three 
 years old, and the youngest member. Douglas was small 
 of stature and very slender. Mr. Lincoln subsequently said 
 he was at that time " the least man he ever saw." These 
 3'oung men began their intellectual and political sparring 
 during this session. It was a struggle^which foreshadowed, 
 
ABRAHAM LINCOLN. 211 
 
 and even laid the basis of an epocli in the national histor}', 
 and in the history of progress throughout the world. 
 
 ■ Both men were launched into the political world at a time 
 when \ast problems of government were beginning to agi- 
 tate the public mind. It was at Vandalia, at this time, both 
 marked out the course in which they were to walk, one to 
 baffled ambitions and a grave of unsatisfied hopes, the other 
 to a realization of his highest dreams of achievement; both 
 to exalted statesmanship and crowns of memory. 
 
 Here was the beginning of Mr. Lincoln's connection with 
 anti-slavery history. The prevailing sentiment of Illinois 
 was in favor of slaveholders in the exercise of their legal 
 dnd constitutional rights. There were several hundred 
 slaves held in the State at that time, not by power of law, 
 but by the strength of public sentiment. The Democrats 
 and Whigs were strong in their statements that the Consti- 
 tution protected slavery. The agitation of the slavery 
 question was beginning to create alarm among the politi- 
 cians. A resolution was introduced into the Legislature, of 
 strong pro-slavery utterances, and fixing the odium of Abo- 
 litionism upon all who did not favor it. But two men in 
 the House dared to record their vote against it; those men 
 were Abraham Lincoln and Daniel Stone. These wrote a 
 protest against the resolution, and had it recorded on the 
 journal. Their protest was limited to the statement that 
 slavery was a moral and political evil, over which Congress 
 had power upon the national territory. This was the 
 beginning of Mr. Lincoln's anti-slavery record. It was 
 moderate, yet he never became more extreme in his views. 
 He never believed that Congress had power under the 
 Constitution to interfere with slavery in the different States. 
 He always believed slavery was founded in injustice and 
 
212 THE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 bad policy. He never changed his belief regarding the 
 power of Congress over slavery in the Territories. This 
 protest was the platform on which he stood and fought out 
 the great anti-slavery battle, whose trophies were four 
 million freedmen. 
 
 Mr. Lincoln could never have been a Garibaldi in Italy, 
 nor a Kossuth in Hungary. His large and reverent regard 
 for the law forbade him from being a revolutionist. Men of 
 the sober and moral temperament are never the leaders of 
 revolutions. Their discussion of subjects may arouse 
 thought, but never pro\'okes agitation. William Lloyd 
 Garrison went down to Baltimore to help Lundy publish his 
 anti-slavery paper, " but," as he observes, " I wasn't much 
 help to him. for he had been all for gradual emancipation. 
 I became convinced that immediate abolition was the doc- 
 trine to preach, and I scattered his subscribers like pigeons." 
 
 Men of the Garrison type of mind have been the leaders 
 in all the great revolutions of the world. These contend- 
 ing and revolutionary spirits are of one mould. They have 
 been the restless agitators who have marked each era of 
 government existence with their peculiar doctrines of refor- 
 mation. They are as a general thing ambitious and designing 
 men, who seize upon slight or fancied ills and magnify them 
 to wonderful proportions, sowing distrust among the citizens, 
 and unsettling the whole affairs of State. Bold in their 
 movements and extreme in their utterances, they soon 
 become renowned as leaders, and begin to play the role of 
 patriots and mart}-rs. A patriot may strike boldly to disen- 
 thral a State, a demagogue keeps it in the throes of pei-petual 
 disturbance. Robespierre and Danton were agitators. 
 Controlled by the motives of a wrong-headed ambition, 
 they sought more to be the creators of a new order of things 
 
ABRAHAM LINCOLN. 213 
 
 than to relieve France from the heel of an obnoxious mon- 
 archy. Garibaldi and Patrick Henry were revolutionists. 
 They sought to overthrow the existing tyranny, that the 
 generous principles of home rule might be granted their 
 people. 
 
 Revolutionists never take note of the time when they 
 strike for their results, nor of the means to be used for the 
 end. The}' are inspii-ed by a boundless conviction that a 
 reform is demanded; they are ready to sacrifice every tra- 
 dition and override every fundamental law that stays the 
 triumphant victory of their banners. New principles are 
 thus incorporated into the government at the peril of the 
 national existence itself. It is said that the small pox leaves 
 the system perfectly pure, but at times the purifying process 
 is more than the patient can stand, and he dies. The revo- 
 lutionist will endanger the entire government rather than 
 endure one ill, yet to these heroic physicians of the national 
 patient do governments owe their golden eras of progress. 
 They are men of profound conviction and relentless pur- 
 pose; self-willed, self-reliant and decisive, the}' combine all 
 the sterner qualities, and possessing the moral element of 
 patriotism, are the creators of great epochs among men. 
 As a class they are not controlled by circumstances, but 
 control circumstances. 
 
 William Lloyd Garrison was a revolutionist. Law had 
 no sacredness and government no rights if they conflicted 
 with his views. Animated by a great principle they are 
 not turbulent; what they say and do appears fanatical, but 
 in them there is no such spirit. They move from the 
 supremest convictions of duty, and their utterances are, to 
 them, mere statements of unvarnished truth. Garrison was 
 peculiarly bland and urbane. He had a singular steadiness 
 
214 TUE OENirS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 of manner. His hand-writiny; showed the finished com- 
 pleteness of the writing- master. In the '' copy " of the 
 most vehement denunciations that appeared in the " Liber- 
 ator,''' not a letter was ever misplaced, or a comma or 
 exclamation point omitted. When old age had crept upon 
 him, he met with a vast assemblage in Boston to rejoice 
 over the close of the war. His thirty years of war had 
 closed also. His serene face, with its benevolent calmness, 
 looked upon this audience with the same unmoved serenity, 
 that twcnt}' years before bowed politely to a Boston mob, 
 as he descended from the rostrum in Faneuil Hall, and was 
 dragged by a rope ignominiously through the streets. 
 
 Abraham Lincoln did not belong to the school of great 
 leaders represented by O'Connell, Kossuth, Garrison and 
 Giddings. He possessed none of the rugged and aggressive 
 spirit that characterized those men. Marked b}' a devotion 
 to the right as strong as theirs, he was more conservative, 
 and knew a more reverent regard for the established law 
 than they. He could not be a revolutionist, for his patriot- 
 ism was equal to his love of right. Slavery was the one 
 question to which his attention was given as a public dis- 
 putant, yet he " never ceased to believe that Congress had 
 no power under the Constitution to interfere with slavery in 
 the different States." He was usually spoken, of in his 
 earlier political life as a safe man, but too conservative to 
 be a leader. It was the same conser^"atism that dis- 
 tinguished Washington and Adams and Clay. When his 
 hand finall}* signed the emancipation proclamation, the free- 
 dom it gave was what he had always believed to be right; 
 but that freedom came as the result of the war, and the 
 proclamation as the dire resort of a military necessity. 
 
 In 1837, after the close of his second term in the Legis- 
 
ABRAHAM LINCOLN. 215 
 
 lature, Mr. Lincoln accepted the ofter of a law partnership 
 with Major Stuart, and took up his residence at Springfield. 
 He had been instrumental in removing the State capital 
 from Vandalia to Springfield. This gave him a favorable 
 introduction to her people. In 183S he was again elected to 
 the Legislature, and oh its assembling was recognized as the 
 foremost man on the Whig side of the House. He was 
 accordingly put forward as the candidate for speaker of the 
 House; the contest was close, for the new party was gaining 
 rapidly in Illinois, but Col. Ewing was elected by one' ma- 
 jority. The defeat placed ^Slr. Lincoln on the floor of the 
 House, a place which gave him opportunity for his powers 
 as a debater. He took a prominent part in the discus- 
 sions of the session. He had learned in the two previous 
 terms that one of the most successful ways of getting rid of 
 a troublesome opponent was by telling a story. A story, 
 well told and which is apt to the case in hand, with its point 
 directed at an opponent, is one of the most powerful weapons 
 a disputant can use." No batteries are so deadly in a dis- 
 pute as those that, by illustrating the falsity of the opposing 
 position, raises a laugh. There are men that can stand up 
 all day under the fire of logic and eloquence, but one 
 fusilade of laughter upsets their nerves and leaves them 
 floundering. 
 
 The shafts of ridicule which John Randolph, of Roanoke, ■ 
 hurled at his enemies, making their exclamation points with 
 his long, bony finger, did more to disconcert the opposition 
 than all the flights of his splendid rhetoric. When attack- 
 ing Henry Cla}', he gave a glowing eulogy on Mr. Clay's 
 brilliant abilities, and proceeded to exhibit what he termed 
 "Clay's Corruption." He had piled his charges mountain- 
 high; stopping short in the terrific pace of his eloquent 
 
216 THE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 denunciation, he looked over his audience with a quizzical 
 air and quietly said, " Clay shines and stinks like a rotten 
 mackerel by moonlight." The eftect was electric; no broad- 
 side of the opposition ever so completely downed the great 
 Kentuckian. 
 
 The strength of anecdote and ridicule, when aptly put, 
 lies much in the fact that no reply can be made to it. The 
 victim is helpless, vmless he can retort in the same kind and 
 with an improvement. The gift in the first place is so rare 
 a quality, that one need never fear to use it; generally there 
 is but one quiver in an assembly filled with that kind of 
 arrows. 
 
 Lincoln's tactics of meeting an eneiny with an anecdote 
 answered his purposes so well, that he soon turned the expe- 
 dient in many directions. He was not greater than man}' 
 other men in this particular, but seeing its value, he practiced 
 its uses until he became wonderfully adept in stor}^ argu- 
 ment. If a man broached a subject which he did not wish 
 to discuss, he told a story which changed the direction of 
 the conversation — if he was called upon to answer a question, 
 he answered it by telling a stor}'. He had a story for every- 
 thing. Something had occurred at some place where he 
 used to live, that illustrated every possible phase of every 
 possible subject with which he might have connection. His 
 faculty of finding a story to match every event to which he 
 bore any relation, was marvelous. As our anatomists find 
 one bone, and by their acquaintance with the necessities of 
 natural formations construct about it the form of the animal 
 of which that bone was a part, so he would take the slight- 
 est occurrence, and by some law of association weave it into 
 a harmonized form, so "pat" that it was accepted as true, 
 
ABBAHAM LINCOLN. •211 
 
 and so adroitly handled, that they moved in his speeches 
 with all the power of logic. 
 
 The gift of illuminating a subject by some form of illusti-a- 
 tion has been possessed by every one of the M^orld's great 
 orators, because it is a style of speaking that sheds light ; it 
 commends itself to the cultivated and ignorant alike; born 
 orators use it, for it is the natural light nature flashes on her 
 dark subjects. Demosthenes abounded in illustrations, and 
 so did Cicero; so, also, has every Indian orator; Pitt and 
 Patrick Henry made pictures walk in splendid processions 
 before their hearers. " Him, who taught in Galilee," spoke 
 in a series of illustrations; "the common people heard him 
 gladly," and the agents of the Sanhedrim returned to their 
 master and said: "Never man spake like this man." 
 IVIeasured by the ornate standard of Irving, or the majestic 
 sentences of Webster, Lincoln would seem to lack the quali- 
 ties of a successful speaker; but natural men are their own 
 standards; the world has no rules b}' which they can be 
 measured. The only real measure of eloquence is" do the 
 people understand the speaker, and are they convinced by 
 him.^ If they are, he has the orator's power and is superior 
 to criticism. 
 
 Mr. Lincoln's first case in court was not marked by 
 "Erskine's and Ellenborough's brilliant strides to fame in a 
 da)'. Whatever he won was through the processes of mid- 
 night toil on the side of right. Men belie^■ed him honest, 
 and hence he had great influence with the juries. He was 
 always weak when on the wrong side. He never accepted 
 employment in a case where the client's recital showed him 
 in the wrong; and even when in the right, he counseled a 
 compromise if there was any question about making it clearly 
 evident. Sometimes he was deceived, and as soon as con- 
 
218 THE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 vinced of this on the trial, he lost all his enthusiasm and 
 courage. His moral integrity had a genuine interest in the 
 establishment of justice. But he was forbidden those mas- 
 terly manceuvers in doubtful cases which win the majority 
 of prominent attornej^s their reputation and fees. 
 
 Judge Story had a peculiar regard lor a lawyer's duty to 
 a client. Once enlisted in a case, he lelt it his duty to win 
 for his client, right or wrong. Rufus Choate looked upon 
 the practice of law as a business; and as a carpenter will 
 build a house for a good man or a bad one, feeling that the 
 matter of morals does not enter into the building, so Choate 
 took a client's case and won it for him, without ever recog- 
 nizing that the virtues or vices in it atiected him; there 
 might be some rotten testimony, but he built it in, as the 
 carpenter would a rotten board, because the proprietor 
 insisted upon furnishing it. Choate's consuming thought 
 was to get a verdict. " Get the jur}' with you," he said, 
 " move heaven and earth to carry the jury, and take your 
 chances in the Supreme Court." Lincoln belonged to a puri- 
 tanical class that never could lose sight of justice. The 
 litigant's money was poorly invested that over-reached him 
 and retained him on the bad side ; " he was perversely hon- 
 est." His partner said while yet poor he was engaged upon 
 an important case, and discovered he was on the wrong side. 
 He informed his associate he would not make the plea to 
 the jury ; the associate made it, and won the case ; perfectly 
 convinced his client was wrong he refused to receive one 
 dollar of the fee of nine hundred dollars. 
 
 In that early day there was not sufficient practice for any 
 one firm of lawyers at Springfield to be kept busy. It was 
 the custom for those of reputation to ride the circuit with 
 the judge. Mr. Lincoln early decided to visit the county 
 
ABM Air AM LINCOLN. 219 
 
 seats in his judicial district during each term of court. His 
 genial homespun manners and his readiness to make a speech 
 on any subject of public interest, soon attracted public atten- 
 tion and won him hosts of friends. It is doubtful whether 
 the profession ever regarded him as a well read lawyer, for 
 he lacked those early advantages of legal training which 
 conduced so much toward making Marshall a Chief Justice, 
 and Hale a Lord Chief Justice. By his own powers of gen- 
 eralization and deduction he became versed in the principles of 
 the law, and in a few years came to be recognized by the 
 best lawyers as their peer. He supplied the lack of a 
 thorough knowledge of the fundamental treatises by studying 
 his cases with great thoroughness; he became so uniformly 
 successful in them that the people regarded him as having 
 no equal. Within ten years after his location at Springfield 
 he was found on one side or the other of every case in the 
 circuit. 
 
 ]\Ir. Lincoln won his cases at bar chiefly through the con- 
 fidence the juries had in his honesty and his peculiar methods 
 of advocating a case. In presenting a case to a jury he pre- 
 sented both sides. This was done in a manner at once lucid 
 and fair; after his statement, little was left to be done in 
 this direction by the opposing counsel. Usuall}' on the 
 right side, he could afford to give the opposition everything 
 they could consistently claim, and still have enough material 
 left for his verdict. His fairness was not apparent, but real. 
 In addressing a jury he would yield point after point that 
 any other lawyer would have disputed, until his clients 
 would tremble in apprehension that the case was given away; 
 then he would state his own side with such power and clear- 
 ness that that which had appeared strong against him was 
 reduced to weakness; that which had seemed sound was 
 
220 THE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 proved to be specious, and that which had the appearance 
 of being conclusive against him was plainly seen to be cor- 
 roborative of his position. The result was, every juror felt 
 Mr. Lincoln to be an absolute aid to him in solving the 
 difficulties and arriving at an impartial A'erdict. The lav/- 
 3'ers all testified that he was a hard man to meet. 
 
 During the earlier years of his law practice Mr. Lincoln 
 had to contend with the extremest poverty, contending with 
 its perplexities and hardships. He had great temptations to 
 make a temporary use of any money that might be in his 
 hands. It was a temptation which Marlborough was unable 
 to resist, and around the history of Lamartine and Talleyrand, 
 in such cases the mantle of charity must be thrown. Mor- 
 ton passed through an eventful career, with millions at his 
 command in various ways, and was always straightened by 
 his meager salary, but died in poverty without a dollar ever 
 having stuck to his hands. Years after Mr. Lincoln was 
 established in the practice of law, the agent of the Postal 
 Department called at his office to settle and collect the balance 
 due the department, which had been standing since his 
 retirement from the New Salem office. Mr. Lincoln 
 appeared perplexed. An observing friend who chanced 
 to be in the room, suggested, " If you are in want of money 
 let us help you." lie made no reply, but pulled from under 
 a pile of books a little old trunk, and asked the agent how 
 much the debt was. The sum was named, Lincoln opened 
 the trunk, pulled out a package of money, wrapped in a rag, 
 and counted out the exact sum of $17.30. This balance due 
 the Government had been thus stored during all these 
 3'ears. 
 
 Large sympathies are an unconscious element of power 
 with many men. A nature that is pained with every injury 
 
ABBAUAM LINCOLN. 221 
 
 inflicted will be found instinctively doing many generous 
 things. Men sometimes affect this ^•irtue, but like any other 
 artifice it is always detected on sight. The world often 
 seems to be harsh in its treatment of men; however, the 
 long run seldom fails to prove its judgment correct. The 
 aggregated human judgment is like a vast sensitive plant; it 
 detects the slightest unnatural touch. A man of real sym- 
 pathies need never publish them to the world. They are 
 made to vibrate so often in this tempestuous life that those 
 about you will not fail to catch the air. When General 
 Marion sat in his tent and wept because the soldiers had to 
 make a forced march over the frozen ground, almost bare- 
 footed, the old veterans knew it as by instinct. 
 
 A genuine sympath}', like the waters from a fountain, 
 flows on forever. It is gi\x'n as freely to an insignificant 
 subject as to some great cause. ^Ir. Lincoln never knevi- 
 the diflerence in the want of a caged bird to be free and 
 four million slaves crying for libert}'. They were to him 
 alike the voice of want unanswered, and this left a pain, in 
 his breast. A petty incident will serve to illustrate his good 
 heart. On journeying to a county court he passed a 
 slough, and saw a pig swamped in the mire, and helpless to 
 free itself. He looked at the pig and then at the new suit 
 of clothes, just donned that morning. To help that pig, 
 much as he wanted to, was too great a peril for that new 
 suit, so he decided against the pig and rode on. But the 
 vision of the little sufferer stood before his eyes and would 
 not down. At last, after riding two miles, he could endure 
 it no longer, and turned and rode hurriedly back, " deter- 
 mined to help that pig even if it cost all the shine on the 
 new clothes." He carried rails and built a passage into the 
 mire. He then walked out on this to where he reached the 
 
222 TUE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 pig; between its flounders and the holes in the floor of his 
 bridge lie slipped into the mire himself, B}' the time land 
 was reached deliverer and victim presented very much the 
 same appearance. Mr. Lincoln cleaned his clothes with a 
 stick, and proceeded on his way. Afterwards in examining 
 his motives for going back to the release, he first thought it 
 was benevolence, but he finally come to the conclusion that 
 it was selfishness; that he had gone to the pig's relief to 
 ^'take a pain out of his own mind." 
 
 In 1840 Mr. Lincoln was again elected to the Legislature. 
 He was again the candidate of the Whigs for Speaker, and 
 again defeated. Being the representative member from 
 Sangamon County, and alread}' exercising an influence in 
 the State councils of the party, he came to be called the 
 " Sangamon Chief" There was no special act of his in 
 these legislative sessions that served to bring him prom- 
 inently before the people; his growth had been the gradual 
 development of a conscientious legislator. At the close of 
 this session he refused a further nomination; evidently a 
 larger political life was dawning upon him. 
 
 In 1842, having arrived at his thirty-third year, Mr. Lin- 
 coln married Miss Mary Todd, a lady to whom he had been 
 engaged for a time, but the marriage had not been consum- 
 mated earlier on account of his limited ability to provide for 
 a home. The young couple took rooms at the Globe 
 Tavern, because the widow Beck kept it, and because 
 they could stay there for eight dollars a week. Mr. Lin- 
 coln's life, touched with melancholy, needed a home where 
 lo^■e and comfort might be found. This could be found in 
 no home but his own. Pitt tore up a tender love by the 
 roots lest it should interfere with his political ambition. 
 Gcethe was foi-ever involved in a love aflair, but was ras- 
 
ABRAHAM: LINCOLN. 223 
 
 cally heartless. Mr. Lewis eloquently defends him, on the 
 plea that " genius has an orbit of its own and sometimes 
 necessarily disregards domestic duties." But even Goethe 
 was captured by a bright-e3'ed girl who presented him a 
 petition, married her, and for twenty-eight years looked 
 back upon the sixty previous years as a loss. Socrates, 
 with his Xantippe, Richard Hooker rocking the cradle, and 
 John Wesley having his whiskers pulled, are not encourag- 
 ing pictures of the influence of domestic life, unless the 
 quaint suggestion of Isaac Walton be accepted, that '' afflic- 
 tion is a divine diet." 
 
 Mr. Lincoln regarded his home as a sacred spot; his 
 regret was that it should be so humble. Scant as it may 
 have been for several years in the luxuries of life, the real 
 elements of a hearthstone were never absent. Strongly do- 
 mestic in his nature, he found in his home a quiet and rest 
 that he had never known in the world, for as he said: " Up to 
 this time I have always lived out of doors." Settled for 
 life, thoughts of Congress began to influence him. In 1S43 
 he wrote to his friend Speed : " We had a meeting of the 
 Whigs of the county here on last Monday, to appoint dele- 
 gates to the Congressional convention, and Baker beat me 
 and got all the delegates instructed to go for him. The 
 meeting, in spite of my attempt to decline it, appointed me 
 one of the delegates, so that in getting Baker the nomina- 
 tion, I shall be fixed a good deal like a fellow who is made 
 groomsman to the man who has ' cut him out ' and is mar- 
 rying his own dear gal." 
 
 Mr. Lincoln was always loyal to his party and supported 
 the nominee. He had a love of freedom and progress, but 
 he never moved faster than he could take his part}' with 
 him. Believed to etfect anything, one must work through 
 
224 THE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 organizations of men, and to this end the whole party must 
 be carried together in a reform. He was careful to go no 
 faster and no farther than he could take his party with him. 
 His policy was to advance surely, even if he was obliged to 
 proceed slowly. 
 
 In 1844 Henry Clay, Mr. Lincoln's political idol, was the 
 candidate of the Whig party for the Presidency. Mr. Lin- 
 coln, as an elector, canvassed Illinois. The defeat of Mr. 
 Clay was a cruel disappointment. to his friends. He had the 
 power of exciting an enthusiastic affection for his person that 
 few politicians have enjoyed; like Schuyler Colfax, the 
 women of the country were always interested in his suc- 
 cess. Mr. Lincoln was one of the chief mourners, for the 
 defeat rendered Mr. Clay a political impossibility in the 
 future. But the candidate for elector had won laurels dur- 
 ing the canvass; at its close he was recognized as one of the 
 most powerful political speakers in the State of Illinois. Mr. 
 Lincoln decided to make a visit to the man he recognized as 
 the genius of American statesmanship, and selected the 
 occasion when Mr. Clay was to deliver a speech at Lexing- 
 ton, favoring gradual emancipation, as the auspicious time. 
 He heard the speech and was sorely disappointed. The 
 speech was written and read; it was not eloquent, and 
 lacked that spontaniety and fire for which the author was 
 so famous. 
 
 Mr. Lincoln secured an introduction, and the great Ken- 
 tuckian invited his admirer to Ashland. Mr. Lincoln 
 accepted with delight, but the interview was no more satis- 
 factory than the oration. It was not strange, for two men 
 more unlike were never brought together. One was a 
 proud inan, the other was a huinble man; one was princely 
 in his bearing, the other was lowly; one was distant and dig- 
 
ABRAHAM LINCOLN. 225 
 
 nified, the other was as simple and teachable as a child ; one 
 received the deference of men as his due; the other received 
 it with a sense of his unworthiness. 
 
 On his return to Springfield, Mr. Lincoln could not dis- 
 guise his disappointment. He felt that while Mr. Clay was 
 a polished and superior man, his nature was imperious, 
 and that his kindly bearing was a magnificent and patroniz- 
 ing condescension that made his guest very uncomfortable. 
 Li 1846 Mr. Lincoln was nominated for Congress. He 
 went into the field, making a speech every day after the 
 campaign opened, and was elected by an unprecedented ma- 
 jority in that district. He took his seat in Congress, a new 
 member, but not a novice in politics or legislation. He had 
 mastered all the great questions that agitated the public 
 mind. His speeches had not been harangues, but the}' had 
 been great schools of information for the people. Like 
 Adolph Thiers, who would never speak until he had pre- 
 pared all his data from official sources, and whose statements 
 politicians early learned never to call into question, so Mr. 
 Lincoln had been no mere declaimer; his reasonings were 
 along the lines of his convictions and based on admitted 
 facts. He stood in Congress, the only Whig member from 
 Illinois, attracting the eye of the gazers by his extreme 
 height, and consideration by his profound earnestness and 
 masterly knowledge of every subject he discussed. Mr. 
 Douglas took his seat during this session as Senator 
 from Illinois. The " tallest and the shortest members of 
 the Illinois Legislature," had now become the tallest and the 
 shortest members of the National Legislature, but the 
 lesser had outstripped the greater, for Mr. Douglas, a more 
 brilliant orator and an able political manipulator, had climbed 
 
226 THE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 far above the " Sangamon Chief," and was now in the 
 Senate. 
 
 The Mexican war was now engaging pubHc attention. 
 The people were seriously divided about the justice of the 
 war. Mr. Lincoln, from his seat, voted that the war " was 
 unnecessarily and unconstitutionally begun by the President 
 of the United States." His speech on the occasion was a 
 severe arraignment of the Administration, and produced a 
 marked impression on Congress. The speech was remark- 
 able as a literary production. It had none of the finish and 
 polish with which Adams would have adorned it; it was 
 not studded with poniards wreathed in bouquets as Charles 
 Sumner would have embellished it, but it was a direct state- 
 ment of facts and principles, clothed in pure English, telling 
 an honest story, which, like " Grey's elegy," }ou could not 
 transpose a sentence or change a word but you would 
 mar its perfection and power. 
 
 Mr. Polk, by his war with Mexico, had been engaged, 
 much against his inclination, in manufacturing available 
 candidates for his own place. The National Whig Con- 
 vention nominated General Taylor for President. Mr. Lin- 
 coln canvassed in New England, and later in the campaign, 
 stumped his own State. He was not a candidate for 
 renomination to Congress. He received certain support in 
 the former convention on the pledge that he would ask lor 
 but one term; he was faithful to his agreement. The record 
 he had made demanded a return. But his word in politics 
 was to him as sacred as his word in business, and he retired 
 to private life. 
 
 The gaunt and awkward figure of Abraham Lincoln was 
 to him a source of great embarrassment, and in a large 
 measure assisted people in forming their estimate of his 
 
ABRAHAM LINCOLN. 227 
 
 abilities. In Congress he felt himself, on occasions, the 
 observed of all observers, and his sensitive nature shrank 
 from the rude gaze that was reading him a ''rail-splitter." 
 The great burly form of Dr. Johnson, that attracted so 
 much curious attention, caused him greater grief than all the 
 poverty with which he had to contend. The club feet of 
 Thad. Stephens gave him many a cry at school, and many 
 pangs in later life, but it required more than misshapen feet 
 to check that fiery spirit, whose word in the nation for so 
 long was law, and whose suggestion was the shadow of a 
 statute to come. Pope possessed a frail tenement of ninety 
 pounds, done up in cotton and bandages. He ne\er knew 
 any physical strength, and spent his time, b}' spells, in 
 bewailing his misfortune, and coining verses that have 
 delighted the nations. Men of the splendid presence of 
 Roscoe Conkling and General Hancock have a valuable 
 amount of public esteem thereby granted them, which the 
 ungainly figure of a Lincoln and a Talleyrand are onl}' able 
 to equal by feats of intellectual prowess. 
 
 Mr. Li^icoln's practice, never very large, was entirel}' 
 ruined when he returned from Congress. The work of 
 earning a living once more stared him in the face. With a 
 resolution worthy of Tenterden, he bent his energies again 
 to this solemn duty. Webster had the faculty of securing 
 large fees, even if he was unable to preserve his earnings. 
 Charles O'Connor at a ripe age retired on a competence, 
 earned at the bar, that would be sufficient for a prince's 
 wants. These men possessed the business tact of a lawyer 
 they charged their clients according to the value of the ser 
 vice they rendered them. Clients with large interests imper 
 lied are usually willing to pay largel}' for valuable services, 
 But Mr, Lincoln had no estimate of the value of services 
 
228 TUB GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 He measured the fee by the ability of the client to pay. 
 Like Senator Daniel Pratt, of Indiana, who gave ad\-ice to 
 an agent of an eastern house on an important business 
 transaction, as he was consulted at times for three days; 
 the agent procured the name of a friend to a draft for one 
 hundred and fifty dollars, with which to pa}' for the advice. 
 With the money in his pocket he called on his attorney and 
 asked his fee. " Oh," said the counselor, " I reckon about 
 a dollar!" And yet Mr. Pratt died worth a hundred 
 thousand dollars. 
 
 Ambition is one of the qualities that lives so near the 
 di^'iding line of man's virtues, that few men can give it a 
 liberal exercise without going over the line and accepting 
 the assistance of the baser elements. It requires a Spartan 
 courage to hold ambition down to square dealing. While 
 ISIr. Lincoln possessed a vaulting ambition, the center of his 
 character was too deeply set in integrity of principle to ever 
 betray it even under the most inconsiderable circumstances. 
 Wellington's watchword, "duty," was Lincoln's severe and 
 relentless master. The lawyers of Springfield, having polit- 
 ical aspirations, refused on all occasions to take the defense 
 of any one who had been assisting fugitive sla\es. It was 
 an unpopular business. Such a client went to Edward D. 
 Baker, and was refused frankly on the ground that as a 
 political man he could not afford it. The man went to an 
 ardent anti-slavery friend for advice. He at once named Mr. 
 Lincoln, saying: "He is not afraid of an unpopular case. 
 When I go for a lawyer to defend an arrested fugitive slave, 
 other lawyers will refuse me, but Mr. Lincoln will always 
 take the case." In a case conducted against a railroad 
 company, judgment having been given in his favor, and the 
 court being about to allow the amount claimed by him, 
 
ABRAHAM LINCOLN. 229 
 
 deducting a proved and allowed offset, he rose and stated 
 that his opponents had not proved all that was justly due 
 them in offset; and proceeded to state and allow a further 
 sum against his client, which the court allowed in its judg- 
 ment. His desire for the establishment of exact justice 
 always overcame his own selfish love of victory, as well as 
 his partialit}^ for his client's feelings and interests 
 
 Returning to the practice, not knowing that there was 
 any future political preferment for him, Mr. Lincoln now 
 brought all his vast energies to the study of the law and 
 became a learned jurist. His general reading had been 
 broad, and with his clear head he understood the relations 
 of things,, so that his deductions were seldom wrong, from 
 any given state of facts. He applied the principles of law 
 to the transactions of men with great clearness and pre- 
 cision. Judge Breese said, " I have for a quarter of a cen- 
 tury regarded Mr. Lincoln as the finest lawyer I ever knew, 
 and of a professional bearing so high-toned and honorable as 
 justl}-, and without derogating from the claims of others, 
 entitling him to be presented to the profession as a model 
 well worthy of the closest imitation." Judge Thomas Drum- 
 mond, of Chicago, representing the bar of that city, said, " I 
 have no hesitation in saying that he was one of the ablest 
 lawyers I have ever known." In addition, he said, "No 
 intelligent man who ever watched Mr. Lincoln through a 
 hard contested case at the bar, questioned his great ability." 
 Judge Drummond's picture of Mr. Lincoln at the bar, and 
 his mode of speech and action is so graphic and so just that 
 it deserves to be quoted : " With a voice by no means 
 pleasant, and, indeed, when excited, in its shrill tones some- 
 times almost disagreeable; without any of the personal 
 graces of the orator; without much in the outward man 
 
230 THE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 indicating superiority of intellect; without great quickness 
 of perception, still his mind was so vigorous, his comprehen- 
 sion so exact and clear, and his judgment so sure, that he 
 easily mastered the intricacies of his profession, and became 
 one of the ablest reasoners and most impressive speakers at 
 our bar. With a probity of character known to all, with an 
 intuitive insight into the human heart, with a clearness of 
 statement which- was itself an argument, with uncommon 
 power and felicity of illustration, — often, it is true, of a plain 
 and homel}' kind, — and with that sincerity and earnestness 
 of manner which carried conviction, he was, perhaps, one of 
 the most successful jury law}'ers we have ever had in the 
 State. He alwa}s tried a case fairly and honestl}-. He 
 never intentionally misrepresented the evidence of a witness 
 or the argument of an opponent. He met both squarely, 
 and, if he could not explain the one or answer the other, 
 substantially admitted it. He never misstated the law 
 according to his own intelligent view of it." 
 
 In 1854, a new political era opened; events occurred of 
 immeasurable influence to the countr}'. An agitation of the 
 slavery question was begun, which was destined not to cease 
 until slavery itself should be destroyed. Stephen A. Doug- 
 las was the responsible author of the Kansas-Nebraska bill, 
 which was known as "popular sovereignty," which gave to 
 the people of a Territory the right to choose their own insti- 
 tutions. Mr. Lincoln was opposed to popular sovereignty 
 as it was applied in this bill; between himself and Judge 
 Douglas was destined to be fought the battle of the giants 
 on this great political problem. Mr. Douglas foresaw the 
 coming storm of changed sentiment on this subject, and 
 with an energy and self confidence worthy of a great leader^ 
 he threw himself into the arena of discussion and sought to 
 
 I 
 
ABRAHAM LINCOLN. 231 
 
 avert the popular judgment. In canvassing the State, Doug- 
 las visited Springfield, and before a vast audience assembled 
 at the State Fair, entered into an exposition and defense of 
 his policy with the bearing of a man who had already con- 
 quered. 
 
 On the day following jthe speech of Mr. Douglas, Mr. 
 Lincoln replied to him. This speech was one of the most 
 powerful and eloquent efforts of his life. He felt that the 
 basic principle of human liberty was assailed. He could 
 never consent to recognize as popular sovereignty that 
 which refused sovereignty to one-half the people. He read 
 the bill as a pretext to introduce slavery into the Territories. 
 He recognized slavery in the slave States as a constitutional 
 right, but with a religious fervor he opposed its extension 
 into the Territories. He spoke for three hours and ten 
 minutes. His whole heart was in his words. He quivered 
 with emotion; the vast audience was as still as death. They 
 felt that a man whom they had known for years, and yet 
 who was unknown to them before, was just now revealing 
 superhuman powers, and that with all the energy of aroused 
 manhood he was determined to blast the iniquitous delusion 
 of popular sovereignty. At the conclusion of the speech, 
 every man felt that it was unanswerable — that no human 
 power could overthrow it. Every auditor did homage to 
 the man who took captive the heart, and broke like a sun 
 over the understanding. 
 
 The speech bristled with Mr. Lincoln's lucid, startling 
 and simple statements. One short quotation is an illumi- 
 nator of his entire address: " IMy distinguished friend says 
 it is an insult to the emigrants to Kansas and Nebraska to 
 suppose that they are not able to govern themselves. We 
 must not slur over an argument of this kind because it hap- 
 
232 THE OENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 pens to tickle the ear. It must be met and answered. I 
 admit that the emigrant to Kansas and Nebraska is com- 
 petent to govern himself, but I deny his right to govern a7iy 
 other person without that per so7i''s consents That touched 
 the very marrow of the matter, and revealed the whole differ- 
 ence between him and Douglas. 
 
 In the ensuing session of the Legislature, Mr. Lincoln 
 was the candidate of the Whigs for the United States Sen- 
 ate. The Democrats who refused to support the Kansas- 
 Nebraska policy had an independent candidate in L}-man 
 Trumbull, while the regular Democrats supported Governor 
 Matteson. Mr. Lincoln saw Matteson come within three 
 votes of being elected, and demanded of his friends that 
 they go for Trumbull. They yielded after his urgent 
 entreaties, though strong men among them wept to see their 
 idol thus sacrifice himself. It was a triumph of Mr. Lin- 
 coln's magnanimity and devotion to principle. His self- 
 sacrifice was not his death; it was the old story of " he that 
 debaseth himself shall be exalted," for, upon the organiza- 
 tion of the Republican party, all the " opposition parties " 
 found themselves together, and Mr. Lincoln became their 
 foremost man. 
 
 The great problems that perplexed the political mind of 
 the nation were constantly assuming new phases. Mr. 
 Lincoln was not in full harmony with the old Whig idea, 
 although he considered himself a Whig, and the party 
 regarded him with distinguished favor. He loved the name, 
 and the party associations were precious to him, but he saw 
 there was little hope of resuscitating that dying organiza- 
 tion. The extension of slaver}' had become the permanent 
 question. On either side of Mason and Dixon's line the 
 two great sections of national thought must meet and adjust 
 
ABRAHAM LINCOLN. 233 
 
 their difference, or the Union was one of perpetual strife. 
 Accordingl}' we find Mr. Lincoln in 1856 attending the 
 Bloomington Convention. It was a gathering of all those 
 who were opposed to the Democratic party. With Mr. 
 Lincoln's powerful assistance the Republican party of Illi- 
 nois was organized, a platform adopted, a State ticket 
 nominated, and delegates appointed to the National Repub- 
 lican Convention. 
 
 Mr. Lincoln had developed along the line of what he 
 conceived to be a great duty, until he had become one of 
 the fathers of a national part}-. The avowed purpose of 
 the new party was to resist the extension of slavery. The}^ 
 proposed to shut • it up, where it existed by constitutional 
 guarantee, and preserve it there as a vested right, but to 
 grant it no new territory. Mr. Lincoln's speech to the 
 Convention was one of distinguished power. Again and 
 again during the progress of its delivery, the audience 
 sprang to their feet, and upon the benches, and testified by 
 long-continued shouts and waving of hats, how deeply the 
 speaker had wrought upon their minds and hearts. It 
 fused the mass of hitherto incongruous elements into per- 
 fect homogenity, and caused them to move to their work in 
 harmonious union. 
 
 Mr. Lincoln was recognized b}' his part}' in Illinois as 
 their first man. His fame had moved beyond the borders 
 of his State, by reason of the new organization, and all the 
 "Western States united in accepting him as their leader. 
 Never had a man taken a leading part in. party management 
 with less of self involved in the work. Disraeli never 
 moved the lines of party tactics with half so much concern 
 for England as he did for " Dizz}'." Even Gladstone, con- 
 servative and just as he is, bent the lines of his Irish policy 
 
23-1: . THE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 in order to gain votes enough to uphold liis ministry in Par- 
 liament. Our Jackson, while a stranger to the kind of moral 
 integrity that actuated Lincoln, never regarded faAor or 
 votes, and at the peril of crushing his future and his party, 
 held the helm of State determinedly to the way of his con- 
 victions. America may be flooded with demagogues who 
 disport themselves before every wave of chance opinion, 
 but the inen who have guided the nation and moulded her 
 marvelous destiny, have in nearly every instance been 
 animated by the integrity of patriotism, and crowned with 
 the courage of their convictions. 
 
 There was a strong feeling in the West that Mr. Lincoln 
 ought to be the candidate for the Vice-Presidency, and his 
 name was accordingly presented to the convention. Mr 
 Da3'ton received the nomination, but Mr. Lincoln was thus 
 introduced to the nation. He entered the campaign for 
 Fremont and Dayton with his accustomed zeal, and his State 
 was revolutionized, though his candidates were defeated m 
 the nation. From this time forward Mr. Lincoln was almost 
 wholly given to political affairs. 
 
 The Democratic State Convention of Illinois in 1858 
 endorsed Mr. Douglas as their candidate before the Legisla- 
 ture at the ensuing session for re-election to the United 
 States Senate. Mr. Douglas had become the anti-Lecomp- 
 ton leader. His influence and popularit}' were perhaps 
 greater now than ever before. Prominent Republicans in 
 the East felt that he was a man capable of too much good 
 to the nation to be removed from the Senate at that juncture 
 of public artairs. Moreover, they urged that he was trav- 
 eling to the Republican party as rapidly as his surroundings 
 would permit. Accordingly, when the Republican State 
 Convention met a few weeks later there was a strong pres- 
 
ABRAHAM LINGOLIT. 235 
 
 sure from the East to endorse Judge Douglas. The Illinois 
 people felt that this was questionable policy, and certainly 
 unfair to the members of the part}'. When the convention 
 assembled there was found an almost entire unanimity for 
 ]Mr. Lincoln against Mr. Douglas. When a banner from 
 Chicago, the home of Douglas, was carried into the hall, at 
 the head of their delegation, inscribed: "Cook County for 
 Abraham Lincoln," the whole convention rose to its feet, 
 and gave three cheers for the banner. A resolution was 
 unanimously adopted declaring Abraham Lincoln their first 
 and onl}' choice for the United States Senate. 
 
 During that day Mr. Lincoln was busy in preparing a 
 speech to be delivered to the delegates of the convention 
 that evening. Locking himself in his office with Mr. Hern- 
 don, his law partner, he read to him the opening paragraphs 
 of the speech, and asked criticism. Mr. Herndon replied 
 that all he said was true, but he doubted whether it was 
 good policy to give it utterance at that time. " That makes 
 no difference," responded Mr. Lincoln, "it is the truth and 
 the nation is entitled to it;" adding, "a house divided 
 against itself can not stand. I believe this government can 
 not endure permanently half slave and half free. I do not 
 expect the Union to be dissolved. I do not expect the 
 house to fall; but I do expect it to cease to be divided. It 
 will become all one thing or all the other. The proposition 
 is true, and has been true for six thousand years, and I will 
 deliver it as it is written." The speech, so profoundly 
 truthful on what the nation must do, and so fraught with 
 prophecy, was delivered to the approval of the vast audi- 
 ence, and formed the key-note of his position in the memo- 
 rable contest with Mr. Douglas. 
 
 In a few weeks Mr. Lincoln invited Judge Douglas to 
 
236 TEE OENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 divide time widi him, that together they might discuss the 
 great issues before the people. Douglas accepted for seven 
 discussions. As the debate would not begin for three weeks, 
 Mr. Lincoln proceeded into the State, speaking alone as his 
 great opponent was doing. His first speech was at Beards- 
 towii, the spot where, twenty-five years before, his company 
 had taken rendezvous before starting for the Black Hawk 
 war. The first meeting of these physical representatives of 
 the antipodes was at Ottawa. Twelve thousand citizens 
 assembled to hear the discussion. The gist of the difference 
 between them was that Mr. Douglas did not believe in 
 negro equality, while Mr. Lincoln believed that the broad 
 sweep of the Declaration of Independence included the 
 negro as a man, and that he was endowed with the inalien- 
 able rights of life, libert}^ and the pursuit of happiness. 
 Mr. Douglas looked upon slaver}' with indifference, as a 
 thing that might be "voted up or voted down;" Mr. 
 Lincoln regarded slaver}' as a criine. 
 
 These debates attracted immense crowds of people; and 
 the whole nation looked on with intense interest. The dis 
 cussion was the most memorable in the history of politics 
 The apportionment of the legislative districts gave a major 
 ity of the members to the Democrats, while the majority 
 vote was really with the Republicans. INIr. Douglas' mem 
 "bers were elected and he was re-installed in the Senate 
 INIr. Lincoln was sorely disappointed over the result. When 
 the returns came in that insured his defeat, a friend asked 
 him how he felt ; he replied that he felt very much like the 
 boy who had bruised his toe, " too badly to laugh and too 
 big to cry." 
 
 Mr. Lincoln had produced such a profound impression on 
 the public mind as an orator, that on finding his practice of 
 
ABRAHAM LINCOLN. 237 
 
 the law broken up on his return home, he wrote a compre- 
 hensive lecture on inventions, beginning with Tubal Cain- 
 and ending with the latest offerings of genius. This lecture 
 was delivered in Springfield and some other city, but was 
 never delivered afterward. Reading lectures and delivering 
 stump speeches are very different occupations. Patrick 
 Henry failed in selling goods, but on the forum he rang the 
 electric alarum for a nation. Henry Ward Beecher is the 
 greatest pulpit orator in the world, but those who hear him 
 in his lectures are nearly alwa3's disappointed. Lincoln and 
 Beecher are not readers, they are orators. A lecture pre- 
 pared with care, with eyery sentence polished and scholarly 
 effort given to the expression of each thought, lacks the 
 flexibility and passion of eloquence. The orator who speaks 
 from a thorough mastery of his subject, but leaves the 
 precise form of his utterance to the occasion, possesses a 
 freedom of manner and delivery unknown to the reader, 
 and as the fires of his eloquence flame up, he bears his 
 audience to the heights of enthusiasm and conviction. 
 When eloquence flames in the study, and is there forged 
 into polished sentences, it loses its flavor on being warmed 
 over for an audience. 
 
 Failing in his eftbrt to lecture, Mr. Lincoln devoted him- 
 self more closely to studies of a political character. On the 
 following May, when he entered the wigwam of the State 
 Convention at Decatur, he was welcomed with thunders of 
 applause. On being seated. Governor Oglesby announced 
 that an old Democrat of Macon county desired to make a 
 contribution to the convention. He then bore into the room 
 two old fence-rails, gaily decorated, and bearing the inscrip- 
 tion : " Abraham Lincoln, the rail candidate for the Presi- 
 dency in i860. Two rails from a lot of three thousand, 
 
238 THE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 made in 1830, by Thomas Hawks and Abe Lincoln, whose 
 father was the first pioneer of Macon count}'." The audience, 
 already enthused by the reception given Mr. Lincoln, went 
 wild with cheers, wave after wave of applause swept over 
 the vast crowd, to die away for a moment and then be 
 renewed with increased vigor, until the strength of the en- 
 thusiastic assembly was exhausted. It was fifteen minutes 
 before quiet was restored so the business of the convention 
 could proceed. Vague thoughts of the Presidenc}' doubtless 
 had floated through his mind since he was supported for the 
 second place, but this demonstration evidenced that Illinois 
 would present his name for the first place in the coming con- 
 test. The following year he visited Kansas and Ohio, where 
 his speeches met with distinguished favor. He finall}- recei\'ed 
 the in\itation to speak in Cooper Institute, New York, the 
 details of the invitation for which speech are given in the 
 life of W. G. Greene. Once in the great city, surrounded 
 by its whirl and splendor, he began to realize his situation. 
 He encased himself in a badly wrinkled suit of black, which 
 had evidently journeyed from Illinois in a very small valise. 
 He blushed like a school-girl about his clothes, and on an 
 introduction to George Bancroft, the historian, he was 
 greatly embarressed. While he was the subject of exalted 
 aspirations and ambitions, he was filled with a sense of his 
 imperfections, and experienced a surprise at every success. 
 His triumphs puzzled him, and he betrayed in his conversa- 
 tions a desire to know the secret of his power. 
 
 The great hall was crowded to hear the chieftain of the 
 West. William Cullen Bryant touched him lightly, barely 
 introducing him to the audience. The address was begun 
 in a low, monotonous tone, but gaining confidence in the 
 respectful stillness, his tones, that had long been keyed to 
 
ABRAHAM LINCOLN. 239 
 
 out-of-door effort, rose in strength and gained in clearness, 
 until every ear heard every word. His st}'le of speech was 
 so fresh, his mode of statement was so simple, his illustra- 
 tions so quaint and peculiar, that the audience eagerly drank 
 in every sentence. The backwoods orator had found one 
 of the most appreciative audiences he had ever addressed. 
 He carried them on the resistless tide of his logic and by 
 the magic of his eloquence, to the peroration of the grandest 
 speech ever delivered in the hall of orators; the metropolis 
 of the nation, like the prairies of the West, nestled at his 
 feet a willing worshiper. 
 
 At the conclusion of the speech, a few friends took the 
 speaker to the rooms of the Athenaeum Club for supper. 
 Mr. Lincoln appreciated his success; he was as happy at the 
 table as upon the platform, full of good humor, felicitous in 
 his conversation, and abounding in pleasant stories. He 
 threw off all reserve; he had met and conquered, he had 
 learned that a man of straight forward common sense, who 
 is master of his subject, can talk about it at any place — 
 that possessing these qualities, the speech that succeeds in 
 the Sangamon bottoms will win like plaudits in New York, 
 the capital of politics and learning. The papers of the 
 city were full of the speech and comments upon its singular 
 ability ; the Illinois lawyer was a lion. 
 
 From the city Mr. Lincoln passed into the New England 
 States, making a number of speeches. Everywhere the 
 same interest was aroused. The Rev. Mr. Gulliver met 
 Mr. Lincoln on the train the day after the Norwich address, 
 and told him he had "learned more of the art of public 
 speaking last evening than from a whole course of lectures 
 on elocution." A professor of rhetoric in Yale College took 
 notes of his " style and methods," and gave a lecture to his 
 
2i0 THE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 class on it next clay, and satisfied that still more could be 
 learned, followed him to jNIeriden on the following evening. 
 Thoroughly acquainted with his subject, Mr. Lincoln was all 
 aglow with its importance; he spoke, feeling that the destiny 
 of the government rested on his making the people under- 
 stand and value the crisis at hand. This burning conviction 
 moved him like an inspiration. It gave him a clearness of 
 statement, an unanswerable style of reasoning, and a fund of 
 illustrations, which was romance and pathos, humor and 
 logic, all welded together. 
 
 Shortly after Mr. Lincoln's return home the Democratic 
 National Convention met at Charleston; disagreeing and di- 
 viding, it adjourned to meet at a later date, one wing at 
 Baltimore and the other at Richmond. The Republican 
 Convention met at Chicago on the i6th of June. The 
 country was aroused over these Presidential conventions as 
 it had never been agitated before. The nation was passing 
 into the throes of a mighty struggle, and foreboding clouds 
 hung over the issue of the contest. The attendance at the 
 Chicago Convention surpassed any meeting of the kind in 
 the history of the country. Bates, M'Lean, Wade, Banks, 
 Lincoln, Cameron and Seward were all candidates, with 
 Seward and Lincoln in the lead. Mr. Seward was the can- 
 didate of the great part}^ managers, and Horace Greeley 
 telegraphed to the Tribune that Mr. Seward would be 
 nominated. On the first ballot Seward had one hundred 
 and seventy-three votes, Lincoln one hundred and two, the 
 remainder scattering; on the second ballot the first gain for 
 Lincoln was from New Hampshire. Then Vermont fol- 
 lowed with her vote, which she had previously given to her 
 Senator, Mr. Collamer, as a compliment ; Pennsylvania came 
 next to his support with the vote she had given to Cameron, 
 
ABRAHAM LINCOLN. 241 
 
 On the whole ballot he gained seventy-nine votes, and 
 received one hundred and eight3'-one, while Mr. Seward re- 
 ceived one hundred and eight3"-four and a halt" votes, having 
 gained eleven. 
 
 The announcement of the ^•otes given to Mr. Seward and 
 Mr. Lincoln was received with deafening applause by their 
 respective partisans. Then came the third ballot. All felt 
 that it was likel}' to be the decisive one, and the friends of 
 Mr. Seward trembled for the result. Hundreds of pencils 
 were in operation, and before the result was announced it 
 was whispered through the iinmense and excited mass of 
 people that Abraham Lincoln had received two hundred 
 and thirty-one and half votes, only lacking one vote and a 
 half of election. Mr. Carter, of Ohio, was up in an instant 
 to announce the change of four votes in Ohio from Mr. 
 Chase to Mr. Lincoln. That finished the work. The 
 excitement had culminated. After a moment's pause, like 
 the sudden and breathless stillness that precedes the hurricane, 
 the storm of wild, uncontrollable and almost insane enthus- 
 iasm descended. The scene surpassed description. During 
 all the ballotings, a man had been standing upon the roof, 
 communicating the results to the outsiders, who, in surging 
 masses, far outnumbered those who were packed into the 
 wigwam. To this man one of the secretaries shouted, " fire 
 the salute; Abe Lincoln is nominated! " Then, as the 
 cheering inside died away, the roar began on the outside, 
 and swelled up from the excited masses like the noise of 
 many waters. This the insiders heard, and to it they 
 replied. Thus deep called to deep with such a frenzy of 
 sympathetic enthusiasm that even the thundering salute of 
 cannon was unheard by many upon the platform. 
 
 Mr. Seward had been in public life for thirty years. His 
 
242 THE GENIUS OP INDUSTRY. 
 
 name and fame were established. Mr. Lincoln was untried 
 as a statesman, and comparatively unknown. It was a 
 severe blow to the aspii-ations of the great politician, but 
 was one more evidence that struggling men of worth may 
 to some degree trust the intuitions of the people. Having 
 risen from mother earth, and still living near the soil, the 
 common voice of the country' said: " Give us one of our 
 number, that in the perilous times coming we can live close 
 to his heart and feel that the nation's interests are being 
 guided by a friendly hand." The nomination was the 
 triumph of the citizens over the combinations of politicians. 
 
 In the election Mr. Lincoln received i8o electoral votes, 
 Mr. Douglas 12, Mr. Breckenridge 72, and Mr. Bell 39. For 
 the first time at the polls Mr. Lincoln had triumphed over 
 his ancient political opponent. 
 
 The life that had opened in sadness and trials, in the days 
 of its victory had that conflict increased. Mr. Lincoln was 
 no sooner elected than a strange apprehension filled the na- 
 tion. The division of the Union was openly advocated 
 through a professed fear that the executi\e would interfere 
 with slavery; all his protestations to the contrary were un- 
 heeded. When the special train left Springfield lor Wash- 
 ington, to bear him to his inauguration, rumors were rife 
 that he would never reach there alive. Detectives reported 
 a conspirac}' for his assassination while at Baltimore. He 
 accordingly, under the direction of Mr. Seward, left his own 
 train at Philadelphia, having the telegraph wires cut so that 
 his coming could not be sent forward. At half past six on 
 the following morning he arrived in Washington, unheralded, 
 and with but a single companion. There was probably not 
 one man in five in Washington, at the time Mr. Lincoln 
 entered the city, who, in his heart, gave him welcome. 
 
ABBAHAJI LINCOLN. 243 
 
 When the President-elect entered the Senate chamber at 
 twelve o'clock, he did not meet that heart}- reception usuall}- 
 accorded to incoming Presidents. There was a fear on all 
 hearts for his life. The great representative of the nation's 
 interests carried his -burdens alone. The inaugm-al was 
 listened to with profound attention, none listening more 
 carefully than Mr. Buchanan and Judge Taney, the latter of 
 whom, with much agitation, administered the oath of office 
 to Mr. Lincoln when his address was concluded. The 
 address breathed none but the purest constitutional 
 patriotism and was intended to alia}' every sectional enmit}' 
 and assuage every lo3'al fear. Stephen A. Douglas, his omni- 
 present opponent in every political contest, patrioticalh' 
 stood by his side while the inaugural was being delivered, 
 and "kindly held his hat." 
 
 To those who were dissatisfied with his election and med- 
 itated a division of the Union he said, in the close of the 
 inaugural, " in 3'our hands, my dissatisfied fellow country- 
 men, and not in mine, is the momentous issue of civil war. 
 The government will not assail you. You can have no 
 conflict without being yourselves the aggressors. You have 
 no oath registered in Heaven to destro}' the Government, 
 while I shall have the most solemn one to preserve, protect, 
 and defend it. I am loth to close. We are not enemies, 
 but friends. We must not be enemies. Though passion 
 may have strained, it must not break our bonds of affection. 
 The mystic chords of memory, stretching from every battle- 
 field and patriot grave to ever}^ living heart and hearth- 
 stone all over this broad land, will yet swell the chorus of 
 the Union, when again touched, as surel}' they will be, by 
 the better angels of our nature." 
 
 Mr. Lincoln proved himself true to the principles he 
 
244 TEE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 uttered when he, with one other, registered a negative vote 
 on the question of slavery, a quarter of a century before, in 
 the IlHnois Legislature. The country was assured that if a 
 war was inaugurated, his opponents would be obliged to 
 fire the first gun. He had pledged himself to take no step 
 of even doubtful propriety. He proposed simply to possess 
 and hold the property of the Unfted States. The South 
 was making good the ordinance of secession in the several 
 States, in active preparation for war. The press of the 
 North became impatient with his apparent inacti\"ity, and 
 under its leadership the great North became uneas}'. They 
 distrusted the President's ability to lead the nation in such 
 peril. 
 
 The fall of Sumpter was the resurrection of confidence; 
 the overt act had been committed, and the administration 
 struck back. Up to this date, Mr. Lincoln had no basis for 
 action in the popular feeling. Now he felt that not only 
 abolitionists and alarmists, but the whole North united on the 
 necessity of raising an army and protecting the national life. 
 The burst of patriotism that answered to the call for 
 sevent3'-five thousand troops, showed how well he had 
 weighed public sentiment. The war mo^'ed slowly — Mr. 
 Lincoln was maligned as few men have ever been — he had 
 foes before, and foes behind. Through it all he bore the 
 ceaseless storm of discontent, believing that an adjustment 
 might be reached without pushing war to its fierce desola- 
 tions. The President desired the war closed, with the Union 
 preserved and slavery saved untouched to the Southern 
 States. He now had opportunity to make history vindicate 
 the honesty of his life-long utterances on this question. But 
 the liberation of the slaves became a militar}^ necessity. The 
 emancipation proclamation was issued, and he became the 
 
ABRAHMT LINCOLN. 245 
 
 unwilling power for the destruction of slavery, which all his 
 life he had recognized as a crime against humanity, but a 
 thing sacred in the Constitution. 
 
 Even this proclamation, that one flag-stone in the wide 
 morass of despondency on which the wearied man at last 
 set a firm foot-hold, did not at first appear to be a step into 
 the land of promise. It was uttered too soon to please some 
 parties, too late to please others. The battle of Gettysburg 
 was the first argument that began to convince the world 
 that Mr. Lincoln was right. It has been well said, that 
 nothing succeeds but success. Bonaparte professed his 
 belief that Providence always went with the strongest bat- 
 talions. 
 
 Vicksburg and Gett3-sburg changed the whole face of 
 the nation; the}" were the first stations outside of the valley 
 of the shadow of death. Mr. Lincoln began, at last, to have 
 his vindication. He had not been fighting the war as a great 
 general; he was still trudging along the path of his moral 
 principles; it unfitted him for the harsh necessities of war. 
 He was totally lacking in the Napoleonic qualities. A new 
 genius at the head of the army was bringing victory; he was 
 learning to let military men say that "war meant war." At 
 thij hour the nation put the broad seal of its approbation on 
 all his past course and he was re-elected to the Presidential 
 chair by an overwhelming majorit}'. 
 
 When the Rebellion collapsed, and the military chieftains 
 were putting on their finishing strokes, Mr. Lincoln's great 
 happiness at the successful issue was mingled with the 
 shadow of new-made graves and desolate homes. He never 
 cherished a feeling of harshness; the great burden of his 
 thought, as he saw the end approaching, was how best to 
 repair this vast destruction, to care for the widows and 
 
246 TEE GENIUS OF INDUSTltT. 
 
 orphans and maimed soldiers, and restore the shattered 
 bonds of fraternal union. He ne\er lost himself in all these 
 3'ears of conflict. Washington did, and so did Cromwell, 
 but Lincoln held the humility of charit}' to the hour of his 
 assassination. His last expressions and political actions 
 looked toward peace and forgiveness. On the day before 
 his assassination, he joyfull}' ordered the discontinuance of 
 the draft. His very last official act was to give orders that 
 two of the chief leaders of the Rebellion, then expected in 
 disguise at a seaport, on their flight to Europe, should not 
 be arrested, but permitted to embark. He was thinking of 
 saving the lives of the enemies of the Union when they were 
 plotting to take his. 
 
 Mr. Lincoln observed to Mr. Lovejoy, in February, 1864, 
 " this war is eating m}' life out ; I ha^■e a strong impression 
 that I shall not live to see the end." In July following he 
 said to a correspondent of the Boston yournal^ "I feel a 
 presentiment that I shall not outlast the Rebellion. When 
 it is over my work will be done." 
 
 On the evening of the 14th of April, 1865, at Ford's 
 Theater, in Washington, J. Wilkes Booth made good the 
 threats that had shadowed the President since his first elec- 
 tion. The bullet from the assassin's pistol entered the back 
 of the head; the murdered President raised his head once, 
 and it fell back upon his chair, his eyes closed; he suffered 
 no pain, the injury destroyed conscious life; his eyes did not 
 open again, neither did he speak; the next morning at half 
 past seven he expired. 
 
 Mr. Lincoln was misunderstood by those who opposed 
 him, and fell a martyr to his integrity to principle and the 
 fierce hatred enkindled by the brutality of war. To him 
 the salvation of the Union was paramount to every other 
 
ABRAHAM LINCOLN. / <2A!1 
 
 consideration, but in all the trying scenes of his administra- 
 tive years his animosity was never aroused against any man. 
 No loyal citizen of the United States w^as so uniformly kind' 
 in feeling and courteous in expression about the people of 
 the South as Mr. Lincoln. He was gifted with that clear- 
 ness of head and honesty of heart that enabled him to 
 guide the nation safel}' through the most trying ordeal that 
 was ever placed on the administration of any ruler. Those 
 qualities that make good substantial citizens — the Hampdens 
 of every neighborhood — had the test of their worth tried in 
 a great crucible, and were found able to save a wrecking 
 nation. 
 
 These qualities of Mr. Lincoln, which under trial proved 
 more valuable to the government than the genius of all her 
 statesmen, were viewed in Europe as here. Sir George 
 Grey, in the English House of Commons, moved an address 
 to the Crown, to express the feelings of the House upon the 
 assassination of Mr. Lincoln. In this address he said that 
 he was convinced that Mr. Lincoln " in the hour of victory, 
 and in the triumph of victory, would have shown that wise 
 forbearance, and that generous consideration which would 
 have added ten-fold lustre to the fame that he had already 
 acquired, amidst the varying fortunes of war." 
 
 In seconding the same address, at the same time and 
 place, Mr. Benjamin Disraeli said: "But in the character 
 of the victim, and in the very accessories of his almost latest 
 moments, there is something so homely and so innocent that 
 it takes the subject, as it were, out of the pomp of history, 
 and out of the ceremonial of diplomacy. It touches the 
 heart of nations, and appeals to the domestic sentiments of 
 mankind." 
 
 There was great questioning about him in the diplomatic 
 
248 THE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 circles- of Europe, when the war began, and a great search 
 to understand his abilities and character at home. There 
 were times when the impatient murmurs that another sort 
 of a man was wanted in his chair, a man with more dash, 
 more brilliancy, more Napoleonic efficiency. Yet events 
 have shown that in the contest such a man would have 
 destroyed all. A brilliant military genius, one thinker has 
 said, would have wrecked the republic on the rock of mili- 
 tary despotism, where so many good ships have gone down ; 
 whereas, slow, cautious Mr. Lincoln only took our rights of 
 habeas corpus., and other civil privileges, as he did the specie 
 of old to make them legal tender, and brought it all back safe 
 and sound. Lincoln was a strong man; but his strength 
 was of a peculiar kind; it was not aggressive so much as 
 passive, and among passive things it was like the strength, 
 not so much of a stone buttress as of a wire cable. It was 
 strength swaying to ever}' influence, yielding on this side 
 and on that to popular needs, yet tenaciously and inflexibl}' 
 bound to carry its great end. Probably by no other kind 
 of strength could our national ship have been drawn safely 
 through so dreadful a channel. Surrounded by all sorts of 
 conflicting claims, by traitors, by half-hearted, timid men, 
 by Border State men and Free State men, by radical Aboli- 
 tionists and Conservatives, he listened to all, heard all, 
 weighed all, and in his own time acted by his own honest 
 convictions, and thus simph', and purely, he did the greatest 
 work that has been done in modern times. 
 
/^If'^M^^.n^fiOT}. 
 
^j;j.f^^^j;HTK)J^- 
 
 And if thou sayest I am not peer 
 To any lord in Scotland here, 
 Lowland or Highland, far or near, 
 Lord Angus, thou hast lied. 
 
 — Walter Scott. 
 
 A fire burns in our hearts — we must speak or die. — Stoffoi-d Broo!i&. 
 
A^l!-]^jij^^?fioi^* 
 
 VERY human being has a core, or central char- 
 M r^^"'^ acteristic, around which all the other characteristics 
 range themselves. It is that which distinguishes 
 one man from every other. It is the " what you are," and 
 not the " who you are." When Thomas Gray, musing on 
 an unknown grave, exclaimed^ 
 
 " Some mute, inglorious Milton here may rest, 
 Some Cromwell, guiltless of his country's blood," 
 
 he had exactly the conception which, for want of a word 
 that precisely denotes the thought, will be represented by 
 selflwod in this chapter — a self that was capable of the 
 glorious productions of Milton, but had mutely retired to 
 the grave; that possessed the iron will and executive char- 
 acter of Cromwell, but had stood guiltless of their exercise 
 to the last. An unasserted self is unmistakably the poet's 
 thought. 
 
 Senator Oglesby, of Illinois, furnishes an apt and very 
 striking illustration of our theme. When a very young 
 man, after he had been admitted to the bar, and before he 
 had had much experience in the practice of the law, on one 
 occasion he attended court in a county where he was 
 
252 THE QENIUS OP INDUSTRY. 
 
 unknown. A culprit at the bar having no one to defend 
 him, the judge asked the legal gentlemen if some one would 
 not volunteer for that service. The young stranger arose, 
 and, in a rather confused way, said that he would take the 
 case. After a short consultation with his client, he stated 
 that he was read}' for trial. The veterans exchanged 
 glances, and a smile — part incredulit}', part contempt, with 
 a tinge of amusement — illumined each face. The counsel 
 for the prosecution was a large and powerful man, in the 
 vigor of mature manhood, who had had a large practice in 
 the courts for many 3-ears. The young stranger knew this 
 when he saw him rise to open the case. lie knew a crisis 
 in his life was at hand. 
 
 The counsel for the prosecution dwelt particularl}' on the 
 bad character of the prisoner; attributed to him every vil- 
 lain}^ our language is capable of expressing, and then turned 
 upon the opposing counsel, and poured upon him a tornado 
 of gibes and taunts. Suddenly he stopped, paused for sev- 
 eral seconds, then pointing his finger at our hero, with a 
 grimace, exclaimed: " Do you know what I always think 
 of when I look at him.''" Still with pointed finger, he 
 roared, after another pause, " Beef and onions! " One loud 
 burst of laughter shook the court-room. In the midst of 
 this uproar, while the assailant still stood with pointed fin- 
 ger, the young man, at a single bound, reached him, and 
 with one mighty blow, knocked the aggressor clear across 
 the forum. Such a shout and clapping of hands was not. 
 often heard, even in those pioneer days. 
 
 Many years afterward, Oglesby asserted it as his convic- 
 tion that " had I not knocked him down as I did, I never 
 could have been anything. A man must not onl}' feel, but 
 assert his manhood." 
 
SELF-ASSERTION. 253 
 
 Without commending this mode of self-assertion, it is but 
 just to say, considering the difference of the circumstances,, 
 it is exactly paralleled by Pitt, in his reply to Walpole. 
 Walpole had accused him of theatrical declamation. Pitt 
 closed his reply b}' saying: "But, if any man shall, b}- 
 charging me with theatrical behavior, imply that I utter 
 any sentiments but nry own, I shall treat him as a calumni- 
 ator and a villain; nor shall an}- protection shelter him from 
 the treatment he deserves. I shall on such occasion, with- 
 out scruple, trample upon all those forms with which wealth 
 and dignit}' intrench themselves; nor shall an}' thing but 
 age restrain my resentment — age, which always brings one 
 privilege, that of being insolent and supercilious without 
 punishment." 
 
 How many mute, inglorious Miltons there are! How 
 many men who are conscious nature formed them for a 
 larger destin}' than they are filling. Men who see, all round 
 them, those they know to be by nature and culture their 
 inferiors, proudly rushing to victory, while they, alas! are 
 trailing along in the rear-guard of the struggle. The success- 
 ful men may not be much abo^•e mediocrit}', but they do 
 possess some of the elements that tell on the world — -they 
 assert themselves. And all the genius and talent the others 
 may possess, if held in reserve, will weigh as nothing against 
 the self-assertive tact of their competitor. 
 
 Some of the most gifted spirits have been snatched from 
 oblivion by the accident of one effort. Tasso would not 
 have been known, unless for his madness, had it not been 
 for one poem, Jerusalem Delivered. Posterity holds the 
 authors of the Old Oaken Bucket, Woodman, Spare that 
 Tree, and Home, Sweet Home, by the slender thread of a 
 few verses. Col. E. D. Baker, without doubt one of the 
 
254 THE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 richest of American orators, will be unknown to the coming 
 generation unless the chance publication of his oration over 
 Broderick should preserve him. When we consider the 
 solitary claim that so inany of our heroes hold on posterit}', 
 it is fair to conclude that many having equal mental ability 
 have not crossed the line for one achievement. 
 
 Men like DeQuince}', Ir\ing, Cuvier, and BufTon, men 
 whose works have poured like a flood on the world, are not 
 necessarily possessed of nobler powers than those who have 
 restricted the number of their achievements, but they have 
 possessed the faculty of execution. This faculty of execution 
 is not always commendable. When it gives us a half-dozen 
 books from the pen of a Habberton in one year, no matter 
 how good some of them ma}' be, a part of them are sure to 
 be trashy. The orator on the floor of the "House " who is 
 forever running at the mouth will seldom have attentive 
 hearers, and more rarely make a good speech. When the 
 quantit}' of any thing is great the qualit}' is usually poor. 
 
 On the whole, however, if one has any thing to say or do, 
 he had better assert himself. Especially in this age are the 
 retiring men likely to be crowded out, and not unfrequently 
 by those less worthy. Modest merit is no longer a virtue, 
 if to assert one's self is immodest. The man who feels he 
 has a mission must not expect some friend to ask the world 
 to stop while he quietly and nicely unfolds it. He must 
 boldly march to his place of action, take the animal b}' the 
 horns, force a hearing, and compel obedience. 
 
 Self-assertion has been the reformatory power of the 
 world. Luther, and Calvin, and Wesley, and Campbell 
 felt a mission pressing on their souls, and the}' would give it 
 ■vent if e\'ery tile on the house-tops were an opposing devil. 
 When Harvey announced the circulation of the blood, and 
 
SELF.ASSEETIOy. 255 
 
 Jenner prophesied the vakie of vaccination, they knew the 
 world of thought and learning would be arra3'ed against 
 them. But such souls must burst the &gg of their concep- 
 tion on the world or their spirits would rend their bodies. 
 Our constitutional fathers pledged their lives, their fortunes, 
 and their sacred honor to the inalienable rights of every 
 man. Calhoun believed in the right of secession, and dared 
 maintain it. President Jackson did not, and, " B}' the Eternal, 
 would hang every man that tried to enact it." William 
 Llo3'd Garrison spoke for equality before the law, " would 
 not equivocate," and would "be heard." Out of the throes 
 of such spirits does the world receive a fire that purifies the 
 nations and upbuilds manhood. 
 
 Horace Greeley began life with no favoring surroundings. 
 He scorned the luxuries of wealth and all the wiles of the 
 flatterer. He only knew to speak that which he believed 
 to be true. All his eventful life he was a target for some 
 class of the community, and frequently the opposition of the 
 whole country was leveled against him; but no man re- 
 spected it more and heeded it less. The one supreme 
 thought of his life was to advocate what self thought to be 
 right. He did it when he signed the bond of Jetf. Davis; 
 and finall}', when he did that which caused his final defeat, 
 hastened his death and involved his reputation, he did it 
 with the supreme conviction that he could heal the national 
 wounds, and bring order and prosperit}^ out of chaos. 
 
 Take that statesman who died recently — -Senator Morton. 
 All men concede his greatness, but many condemn him for 
 his relentless advocacy of certain principles. Therein is 
 where men of his iron build are not understood. Morton 
 believed that a certain line of legislation was essential to the 
 perpetuit}' of the nation; believing it, he ad\-ocated it in its 
 
256 THE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 extremest character. His nature spurned a compromise; 
 his fates drove him irresistibly on to all he did, and he could 
 not have helped it if he had bankrupted the universe. And 
 so, Calhoun — who would have measured swords with Mor- 
 ton, if they had been in the Senate together — must speak 
 and practice the faith that was in him, or the world would 
 not be able to hold his frail body. 
 
 Robert Emmet lost his head for daring to strike for the 
 liberty of Ireland. His unconquered soul said, in his last 
 speech: "Let no man mark my tomb until m}' country 
 takes her place among the nations of the earth." His rough 
 granite stands there in Dublin, unchiseled, unlettered, a 
 silent slab. But the spirits of such men walk abroad, though 
 their bodies sleep; and the asserted patriotism of her few 
 martyrs is the seed that is daily germinating into new life 
 in her sleeping people, and ere long will give to the world a 
 free Ireland. 
 
 One man frequently sees another of no greater ability 
 than himself boldly reach up, and, by daring to do it, develop 
 some unusual achievement while he has thought to do that 
 very thing; but for some, to him, unaccountable reason, he 
 failed to grapple the issue, and now walks unknown in the 
 rear of the victor. No more stinging bitterness can be 
 conceived. The yawning chasm that lies between the 
 undeveloped hero and him who has won the world's notice, 
 consists only in the " putting forth of self." But that is every- 
 thing. Opportunities come to all men ; but he whose genius 
 can make an opportunity is panoplied for any event in life. 
 
 Take the great throbbing centers of commerce. There 
 openings for achievements, in various avenues, are thrust 
 upon men daily. Yet few seem to know the hour of their 
 appearance, or the order of their coming. They rush 
 
SELF-ASSERTION. 257 
 
 blindly on in the old rut, gaining to-day and losing to-mor- 
 row, and never, in truth, accomplishing any thing worthy. 
 At the same time there is a Vanderbilt or a Clatiin, strange 
 to the city and unaquainted with the ways of trade, thrown 
 into the channels of commerce, who at once becomes a 
 leader. It is not simply will-power nor self-reliance that 
 does this. It is the assertion of" self, made in so peculiar 
 and potent a way, that men and trade instinctively yield 
 the mastery. 
 
 Egotism is not self-assertion. The profoundest egotists 
 are sometimes the most consummate plagiarists. That 
 puflSng, bellowing Dr. Push, who presses his advice upon 
 every consiimptive he meets, volunteers an alterative to 
 every dyspeptic of his acquaintance, and issues a gratuitous 
 prescription to every sick and dying man in the community, 
 is only an egotist thirsting lor practice and popularity. 
 Rather does the plwsician who, after examining the patient, 
 and soberly weighing all the contingencies in the case, decide 
 upon his course by the aid of thought and investigation, 
 and quietly carry it out in spite of the patient, family or text- 
 books. He may not be so notorious in the communit}', and 
 perhaps for a time will not thrive alongside of Dr. Push, 
 but he is the man sober people will prefer to trust, and in 
 the end he will have pushed the egotist off the track. 
 
 Self-hood has little confidence in an opinion or an assist- 
 ance because the ego gives it. It speaks or does a thing 
 from principle. It asserts because a thing is true; and 
 because it is true, it can not keep from asserting it. That 
 long line of mart3'rs to religion, science, and ideas, from 
 Hypatia to John Brown, had all their egotism swallowed up 
 in a grander selfhood. Over against the " ego " they wrote 
 "principle," and were willing there and thus to die. 
 
258 THE OENJUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 Emerson beautifully says, of such a character as we seek 
 to delineate, ''It makes an overpowering" present; a cheer- 
 ful, determined hour which fortifies all the company, b}' 
 making them see that much is possible and excellent that 
 was not thought of." It dulls the impression of particular 
 events. When we see the conqueror, we do not think much 
 of any one battle or success. We see that we had exag- 
 gerated the ditSculty. It was easy to him. The great man 
 is serene and equable. Events pass over hiin without stir- 
 ring the profound depths of his soul. 
 
 No man can do a thrifty business, in working up self- 
 assertion, who lies under a load of debt. To be in debt is 
 to be in prison. Whichever way one turns, he strikes 
 against some impassable wall. I lis cell is too narrow, either 
 to allow him to stretch out or to stand upright. To ven- 
 ture on selfassertion, in so grave a predicament as this, 
 would be as laughable as to attempt to extricate oneself 
 from the depths of a quagmire, by a hop, step and jump. 
 But, it is said, let a man stand on his manhood, whatever 
 befalls. So say we, but can he.'' Talk about a pleading, 
 cringing, humbled debtor exercising self-assertion! Some 
 men, so situated, exercise cheek, and others flunkeyism; 
 some indulge in penitence, and many in remorse; some pre- 
 varicate, and others exercise themselves in a forlorn hope; 
 some in a brilliant series of collapsing promises; some in an 
 occasional spasmodic, struggling-kick; but few are capable 
 "of manly self-assertion. 
 
 Self-assertion lies in utter disregard of wealth or glor}-. 
 There wasn\ enough gold in Congress to buy the sturdy 
 statesman of Roanoke, or change the ^•ote of the lofty Cal- 
 houn. So no man ever charged Milton with corruption or 
 bribes. When he felt his country in danger, he threw aside 
 
SELF-ASSERTION. 259 
 
 poetry, that idol of his heart, which was winning him a 
 world of friends, and destined to write his name in immortal 
 characters — he threw it all aside, and employed his \oice 
 and pen, with Cromwell, against the aggressions of prelacy 
 and the tyranny of kings. Were not the grandest orations 
 of Demosthenes spoken, not for self, but for others' good? 
 The men who can cast out self, and lay themselves on the 
 altar of principle, possess one element of true greatness. 
 The proudest and noblest self-assertion we remember to 
 have heard of, was that of Professor Agassiz, when some 
 one exclaimed that, with his knowledge and abilities, he 
 might make a great deal of money. " Sir," replied Agas- 
 siz, " I ha\e no time to make money." 
 
 Winchell, in his late work on Science and Religion, says: 
 " The din of a great controversy sounds in our ears. Men 
 of thought have been summoned to choose their banner and 
 range themselves upon one side or the other of the line of 
 battle. It might be expected that I should appear before 
 you in a militant character. I do not. * * * * j \o\e 
 peace. I shall be reproached for weakness. We shall hear 
 of somebody 'on the fence.' Extremists will sa}^ I have no 
 opinions, and court the favor of both combatants. I shall, 
 nevertheless, be brave enough to face such dangers; and I 
 shall deliberately incur the risk of losing the favor of both 
 combatants by refusing to take sides with either. To be 
 positive is not to be strong; to be dogmatic is not to be 
 brave. To be right is to be both strong and brave." 
 
 Look at the career of that statesman of the old Common- 
 wealth, Charles Sumner. As a boy at school, he never 
 engaged in the sports of his mates. Knowledge was his 
 aim; he had no time for recreation. He was the pet and 
 pride of Boston when, on the Fourth of Jul}', 1 844, he was 
 
260 THE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 elected her orator. His speech was a blow in the face of all 
 Massachusetts, and in one hour the budding leaves on the 
 tree of his prosperity were nipped. Friends and foes stood 
 in a common phalanx against him. He was ostracised from 
 every social gathering in the State, except at Longfellow's, 
 and never after received a fee as an attorney. 
 
 An unprecedented eruption and combination of political 
 forces gave him a seat in the United States Senate in 1851. 
 Here he again struck a blow to all personal glory, and Rich- 
 ard H. Dana said: "Sumner is a cat without a smeller." 
 From that time on until his death, he was striking friends 
 and enemies alike. He had no conception of popularity, no 
 estimate of men, no dream of ambition; he was an exile 
 from his party when he died, and had scarcely known the 
 pleasure of a social hour for thirty 3'ears. 
 
 Once taking his stand, he went forward as though all the 
 world was in his support; he knew no diflerence. But prin- 
 ciples and exact truth he knew, and searched through thir 
 teen editions of one author to make sure a quotation was 
 exactly correct. He was the embodiment of self-hood. He 
 filled the four requisitions of greatness — he was without 
 selfishness; he never faltered in asserting the faith within 
 his soul; his life was given to the proclamation of a great 
 principle, and he saw it triumph before he died. 
 
 To get out all there is in one is a problem of life. John 
 Hampden was without genius, and only mediocre in talent, but 
 he held his convictions with earnest intensity; he /;^«5/ proclaim 
 them. What is a small faith in other men becomes a passion 
 with these men. So, when the men of genius and culture, and 
 the lords and barons failed, John Hampden quietly pointed 
 out the path that must be taken, left the farm, grasped the 
 helm of state, and tided the nation through a great storm. 
 
SELF-ASSERTION. 261 
 
 Horace Walpole was certainly not above mediocrity. 
 Macaulay says his oratory " was nonsense, effervescent with 
 animal spirit and impertinence." All the able men of his 
 time ridiculed him as a dunce, a driveler, a child who never 
 knew his own mind for an hour together; and yet he over- 
 reached them all. 
 
 He despised learning, hated fame, loved gardening, adorned 
 his house with pie-crust battlements, and only seemed to 
 talk politics and go to Parliament for pastime. Yet the 
 slightest idea of governmental policy that ever crawled into 
 his brain was asserted with such unction as to its feasibility 
 and excellence, that the nation almost universally received 
 it as from an oracle. For thirty years he was Secretary of 
 State, and during ten years First Lord of the Treasury. 
 No man ever ruled England so easily as Walpole. He 
 never doubted himself. 
 
 It is an accepted fact that a majority of the world's leaders 
 in every age have risen without the advantages of education 
 or wealth. All around these men in the lower walks of life 
 are those who possess rare attainments, and with them have 
 all the perseverance and ambition known to men. The 
 higher advancement of the others is not because the world 
 pays a premium on the uncultured and the poor, but because 
 the same amount of native ability, when asserted, is of more 
 value than when it is gilt-edged and ingloriously mute. One 
 may have much perseverance (but so has the blind horse on 
 the tread-mill), and he may be eaten up of ambition, as was 
 Voltaire, and yet lack this great requisite of self-hood. 
 Counsel with sagacity. Be cautious and meditative in all 
 that you say and do. After all this, obey the faith of the 
 soul, and never flinch. 
 
p^^j^ny j^m- 
 
 'He was a man; take him for all in all, 
 We shall not look upon his like again.' 
 
fm^l^h^. 
 
 ENRY CLAY had a mother. A mother is every- 
 K^ r thing to a child, either for good or for evil. His 
 <:>'■'> mother was everything to him for good — teacher, 
 stimulator, friend. Childhood, in statuary, may charm the 
 eye, by reason of its grace and perfection, and may be pur- 
 chased by money; but when you possess it, it has neither 
 thought nor heart, and is impassive. Mothers are the 
 sculptors of human life, making luminous the lineaments of 
 the face with the light of cultivated intellect and the instinct 
 of purity; informing the plastic soul with great hopes and 
 inspirations, conscious of having received it from the womb 
 of destiny ; or, by their negligence and their criminality, so 
 warping and defacing, in the infant, the Divine image, that 
 when they start their offspring out on to the highway of 
 life, it is at once seized upon and occupied by a legion of 
 unclean spirits. It is said that a house in one of the North- 
 ern States is so situated that as a rain-drop falls on one side 
 of the roof, or the other, its mission is blessed with fruitful- 
 ness or blighted in the waste of seas. If it fall upon one 
 side, it rushes down a declivity, empties into Lake Superior, 
 plunges on over jagged rocks, leaps the ramparts of Niagara, 
 
264 THE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 and loses itself in the broad Atlantic; if it chance to fall 
 upon the other side of the roof, it flows by rill, rivulet and 
 river to the Father of Waters, and empties not into the 
 gulf until it has made fruitful the tields of three thousand 
 miles, and gladdened the homes of millions. So, when the 
 frail infant is cast upon our shores, a mother's influence may 
 turn it hither or thither, either to bless or to ban. 
 
 Henry Clay was blessed with a mother whose love for 
 her sickly boy, and sympathy for his hopeless poNcrt}-, 
 caused her to speak encouraging words in his ear, smooth 
 with her hands the rough way for his tender feet, and kin- 
 dle a beacon for him, whose guidance he never lost sight of 
 in all his long life. This man had no illustrious pedigree 
 like Demosthenes, Cicero, Chatham and Henry. He forged 
 the lightnings of greatness with his own hands. Like 
 Cuvier, having dissected the skeletons of the li\'ing and the 
 dead, he was his own anatomizer. He held that he who 
 was familiar with analysis would comprehend s}'nthesis — 
 that to be constructive one must be destructive. Hence it 
 was the pleasure of his youth to examine into the elements 
 of an oration, as it was the business of his manhood to 
 become one of the authors of politics. 
 
 If Bonaparte had a lordly lineage he forbade its mention, 
 for he despised borrowed greatness. When the Austrian 
 monarch was preparing to make him his son-in-law he busied 
 himself in searching for his ro3'al descent, and was deter- 
 mined to make it out, even as they put great speeches into 
 the mouths of kings. Bonaparte visited him at once, and 
 exclaimed, " Stop, stop, sire! I alone am the author of m}- 
 fortune, and desire it to be so understood : neither royalty 
 nor royal descent has contributed any thing to its achieve- 
 
HhJNlir CLAY. 265 
 
 merit, and though I might legitimately claim both, I would 
 not mention either." 
 
 We do not know that a similar indifference was felt by 
 Mr. Clay relative to his lineage, but his plain, unostentatious 
 habits and firm adherence to republican principles warrant 
 us in presuming that such was the case. Certain it is, how- 
 ever, that for the elevated position he occupied he was as 
 little indebted to any ad\'entitious advantages of birth or 
 fortune as was the mighty conqueror; and with equal 
 propriety might he have said, in view of the means by 
 which he had attained that position, I alone am the archi- 
 tect of my fortune. Having no titled ancestr}', he was not 
 compelled, like Erskine, to rise in spite of them. This son 
 of a Baptist clergyman first breathed the air of the Old 
 Dominion in less than a year after the Declaration of Inde- 
 pendence, on the 1 2th of April, 1777. The father died in a 
 few years, leaving the clergyman's usual legacy, a large, 
 poverty-stricken family. 
 
 It is a well-known truth, that those who are familiar with 
 the beauties and sublimities of the natural world are 
 distinguished for expansive and noble views. The coal- 
 miner, born and reared in the shaft, can not appreciate the 
 high admiration of nature possessed by the Scot, whose 
 home is upheld by some lofty crag, overlooking mountain 
 and sea. And parallel to this effect is that where one is 
 surrounded by the magnificent scenery of the mental and 
 moral world, where Shakspeare and Milton, Talleyrand 
 and DeQuincey, Addison and Goldsmith, are arrayed in 
 their glories before him; or is confined to the smutty cells 
 of a Woodhull or a Sterne, a Don Juan or a Boccacio. 
 Hence the sage custom of the ancient Greeks, of grouping 
 around the }'oung men who were to assume the responsi- 
 
266 THE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 bilities of public life every appropriate and imposing cir- 
 cumstance. In close connection with the precept, " knoiv 
 thyself., " they placed that of " know the good and the great 
 of others.'''' They held that the contemplation of deeds of 
 mental and moral grandeur induced and nurtured patriotic 
 ardor. It is said that the d3'ing Napoleon II would read 
 the story of his father's might and then totter from his 
 couch to swing his father's saber; and that when Hamilcar 
 painted for his boy the dashing horsemanship and valorous 
 deeds of the fathers, Hannibal practiced his pony o\er the 
 logs of the forest and drove his lance into the trees, till with 
 such spirited training, assuming command, he became at 
 once the terror of Rome and the glory of Carthage. 
 
 Henry Clay's mother told her son of the tyranny of King 
 George, of taxation without representation, of Bunker Hill 
 and Warren, of Valley Forge and Washington, of univer- 
 sal philanthropy and LaFayette. She bade him listen to 
 the lofty pleadings of Jefferson, Hamilton and Adams, and 
 the electric alarums of Henry. She told htm that shot and 
 shell, desolation and carnage, limbless bodies and new-made 
 graves, weeping children and heart-stricken mothers, sacri- 
 fices of wealth and homes and life, were all to make true 
 God's promise of inalienable human rights, and to build on 
 this side the waters a nation of freemen. At this mother- 
 fountain deeply did he drink of the impulses of heroic 
 action, filling his soul with hatred of oppression, burning 
 and insatiate as that of Cromwell or Milton. The heights 
 of his eloquence and moral achievement, upheaved by the 
 hand of his power, along the pathwa}' of his life, until the 
 last act, stand like mountain peaks piled to a climax. He 
 grew up controlled by no sectional feeling. His patriotism 
 was larger than his State, and his philanthropy broader than 
 
HENRT CLAY. 267 
 
 his country. The benevolence on which he planted himself 
 was so lofty that it enabled him while legislating for his 
 own country in particular, to see and care for the interests 
 of all countries. 
 
 His great character, his matchless will-power, the thoughts 
 which he entertained, the words which he spoke, his large 
 sagacity, his marked individualit}', his conscientious perse- 
 verance, his self-wrought manhood, and his magnificent 
 patriotism, which achieved for his country continued peace 
 and prosperity — for himself a place like that of a household 
 god in every American heart: we wish succinctly to speak 
 of these, for in the orator we want to find a model for the 
 man. 
 
 Men often bear what seem to be two distinct characters 
 — so distinct as to amount to apparent contradictions. The 
 question with the biographer, in such a case, must be: 
 Which will give the most correct impression.? which repre- 
 sents most truly the effective character.-^ Charles II sought, 
 in disguise, the acquaintance of the author of " Hudibras," 
 thinking that he should find him a most facetious fellow; 
 but so great was the king's disappointment that he was led 
 to pronounce Butler a stupid blockhead, and to declare it to 
 be impossible that he could ever have written so witty a 
 book. Tradition affirms of Shakspeare that, after obtaining 
 a competency from his dramatic works, he settled down 
 quietly upon a farm, varying the monotony of his life b}' an 
 occasional visit to the nearest market town to execute 
 small commissions for himself and his neighbors. What 
 idea of the immortal dramatist should we now possess, had 
 it been left to one of those neighbors to transmit his personal 
 impressions of the " chiel amang them! " 
 
 The elegant Addison and the genial Lamb are said to 
 
268 THE (JENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 have been veiy reserved in society. The}' had two sides — 
 one holding a pen flowing with melhfluous strains; the other 
 paralyzed by contact. Carlyle, like Dr. Johnson, rasps like 
 a Shetheld tile, unless you consent to be borne on the cur- 
 rent of his opinion. They both look on men who disagree 
 with themselves as liars and idiots. These men, whose shafts 
 of satire flew fierce and swift at friend and foe, are unfortunate 
 in having biographers of their social life. But we have to 
 deal with one who lo\ed his friends, hurled his thunders 
 onl}' against an enemy, and through it all vindicated his 
 manhood. Many foes had he in the political arena, but in 
 the social circle none, and even his enemies were his admir- 
 ers. Take one instance: Randolph and Clay were old 
 enemies. The Senate chamber trembled, as Ol3a'npus under 
 the tread of the gods, when these giants crossed swords. 
 Feeble, and knowing he soon must die, Randolph was con- 
 veyed to the chamber. When Clay rose to speak, he said: 
 "Lift me up! lilt me up! I want to hear that voice, and 
 see the man once more." Clay, overcome, stepped forward, 
 clasped his hand, and the two statesmen were in tears. 
 
 It is customary for biographers to write their hero an 
 unusually precocious child or a lamentable idiot. Fortu- 
 nately, we are not compelled to put young Clay in either 
 category. He did not exhibit the youthful profundity of 
 Burke, nor develop the geometrical precision of Blaise Pas- 
 cal, nor overwhelm people by the ten-3'ear-old oratory of a 
 Pitt; neither, on the contrary, was he an incorrigible dunce, 
 like Sheridan, nor a booby, like Swift, nor an eye-blacker, 
 like the "saintly Barrow." As the Duchess d'Abrantes 
 said of Bonaparte, " He was in all respects like other boys," 
 only he was not strong enough to roll large stones about, 
 like Adam Clarke. He was a jangle-legged, tow-headed, 
 
HENRY CLAY. . 269 
 
 moone3'ed young granger — as common a specimen of the 
 overplowed boy as could be found in Virginia. Had you 
 seen him astride the bUnd mare, gee-hawing her with a 
 rope halter, " a-toting " the grist to old Mrs. Darricott's 
 mill, you would have seen no prophecy of the diplomat who 
 manipulated the treaty of Ghent. He was as silent as the 
 Sphinx, on his destin}', in all probability not knowing the 
 meaning of the word. He gave no premonitions of the 
 coming man; he was merely a green, country boy. 
 
 Robert Peel and Gladstone were born to the privileges of 
 glorious old Oxford; but to such educational facilities Cla}'^ 
 was a stranger. His classic hall was a log school-house on 
 the Pamunky River; his Professor Jowett was Peter Dea- 
 con; his curriculum was reading, writing and ciphering " to 
 the double rule of three;" and his course was three short 
 winters. No wonder, then, he felt keenly the thrust of 
 Randolph's poisoned lance, hurled at his poverty and lack 
 of education, and feelingly replied: " My onl}' heritage has 
 been infanc}', indigence and ignorance; but these were my 
 misfortune, not my crime." 
 
 At the age of fourteen he went to Richmond, as clerk in 
 the store of Peter Denney. Up to this time he had read 
 but little. A limited number of the few books in his father's 
 library had received a rapid reading at his hands, and that 
 only to gratify his mother's earnest wishes. His years so 
 far had been spent in a boy's characteristic dilatoriness. 
 The advent in the Richmond store marked a new era for 
 him; it opened his rustic eyes on another world than the 
 " slashes." He had no predilection for merchandising, and 
 its uncongenial duties bore heavily on his mind. In less 
 than a year, his step-father, Captain Watkins, secured him 
 
270 THE GENIUS OB' INDUSTRY. 
 
 a clerkship in the office of Peter Tinsley, Clerk of the 
 Court of Chancery, in Richmond. 
 
 Here the awkward boy met his first trial. He could fish 
 and hunt, and go to mill in his nati\'e Hanover, and be con- 
 tented, for he was the equal of other boys; but when his 
 home-made coat and trousers came into contact with a " city 
 cut," his uncouth manner seemed aggravated, and his sensi- 
 tive nature shrank in mortification from his new companions. 
 Of course the office-boys were not long in disco^"ering• this 
 fresh victim for their jokes, and unsparingl}' made him the 
 butt of all their fun. To Clay this was torture. He wended 
 his way to his lodgings, evening after evening, flinging him- 
 self on his bed in tears. He felt that he was a "country 
 boy," and that every one knew it; that he was in no sense a 
 match for those cit}' bo}s, for he could not dress as they 
 did, nor act and talk in their '' citified " way. But to feel 
 that he was the target for every witticism was unbearable 
 above all else. 
 
 To cross swords with Webster or feel Randolph's duelling 
 pistol leveled at his breast, in after years, did not disturb his 
 soul as did his dail}' encounters with these shrewd young 
 dandies of the office. Between the wit of the boys and the 
 persecution of his own feelings, he perspired like the statue 
 of Orpheus when Alexander hesitated to start on his world- 
 conquering mission. Six months of mortal agony were 
 thus put through, when it came to such a pass that he 
 realized that he must either leave the office or defend 
 himself. One salient stroke of repartee, the next day, 
 silenced his astonished foes. Another one, that afternoon, 
 brought a cheer from the whole house, save the one at 
 whom it was directed. For him it was a scorpion's sting. 
 That night he slept better than he had for weeks, and from 
 
HENRY CLAY. 271 
 
 that da}' forward he carried his sword unsheathed. He soon 
 came to be recognized as the leader of the company. 
 
 While he was too generous to make war upon those who 
 persecuted him in the day of his weakness, he was too 
 much of a general to pause at the parrying of a thrust. He 
 never stopped until he had disarmed his enemy. It was 
 understood that hfe never provoked a quarrel, but whoever 
 attacked him would have the starch knocked out of his 
 presumption, and be laughed to the rear in an ambulance of 
 wit. His slashing retorts soon made him admirers 
 everywhere, but down to his last days he used them in 
 maintaining merely a defensive attitude. It was not in the 
 statesman of "compromises " to be an assailant. 
 
 The idea of doing something for himself in life now 
 began gradually to dawn upon his mind. Like Sir Walter 
 Scott, at that same age, he knew little of books and nothing 
 of men, except by hearsay. It was at. this time he com- 
 menced a course of historical readings, suggested by Mr. 
 Tinsley. 
 
 The salutary influence of scholarly associations has been 
 felt and acknowledged by many of our most eminent men. 
 Some one has said, " A man is known by the company he 
 keeps." It is true that one's thoughts and actions are 
 shaped by the company he keeps, be it in the form of books 
 or men. Franklin always attributed his usefulness to the 
 early reading of Cotton Mather's "Essays to do Good;" 
 and Dr. Wolft' was stimulated to his missionary career by 
 reading the life of Frances Xavier. The same benign 
 result has been experienced in personal companionship with 
 the learned. Sir Francis Horner always sought fellowship 
 with a higher standard of mind than his own. Of intelligent 
 men he had associated with, he says: " I can not hesitate to 
 
272 THE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 decide that I have derived more intellectual improvement 
 from them than from all the books I have turned over.'^ 
 Lord Shelburne, when a young man, paid a visit to the 
 venerable Malesherbes, and was so much impressed that he 
 said: "I have traveled much, but I have never been so 
 influenced by personal contact with any man; and if ever I 
 accomplish any good in the course of my life, I am certain 
 that the recollection of M. de Malesherbes will animate my 
 soul." Bonaparte said he never knew how to be a gentle- 
 man until he met Talma, the actor. 
 
 Thus were moral tone and intellectual healthfulness 
 imparted to Henry Clay by contact with that ripe scholar 
 and hoar}' "signer of the Declaration," Chancellor AVythe. 
 Counsel from self-made men is always more wholesome to 
 a struggling boy than from one that has paced the primrose 
 path with his gold-headed cane. George Wythe had felt 
 the surging waves of aspiration beating in his own breast, 
 during an early orphanage, and knew from experience the 
 bitter adversity begotten b}' contact with superfluous wealth. 
 The flush of fortune and the profligacy of youth had well- 
 nigh destroyed his ambition. 
 
 Hence, in his frequent visits to Mr. Tinsley's office, it was 
 with pain he observed the dissipation of the clerks; but he 
 also remarked, with satisfaction, the stubborn resistance with 
 which Henry met every fast tendenc}-, and the conscientious 
 self sacrifice with which he would forego good dressing, to 
 save the few dollars he was now earning for future use. 
 He knew what industry could accomplish, for after having 
 wasted all his substance in riotous living, he commenced 
 in manhood, to recover his lost time. By diligent applica- 
 tion he was enabled to atone, in some measure, for his 
 
HENliT CLAT. 273 
 
 misspent years, so that he came to be a conspicuous advo- 
 cate even before the Revolution. 
 
 He procured from Mr. Tinsley the services of Henry 
 Clay, as an occasional secretary, to copy his decisions. 
 Even now in his advanced years Chancellor Wythe pros- 
 ecuted his studies with great diligence and far-reaching 
 investigation: in learning, industry and sound judgment he 
 had few equals, and to act as the private secretary of such 
 a man was itself an education. An intimate friendship soon 
 grew up between the gray and white hairs. The Chancellor 
 loved Henry as a son, and Clay venerated him as a father 
 and teacher. Advice in strict legal knowledge, classics^ 
 history, and polite literature, poured upon the young secre- 
 tary in an unceasing current. He was a constant student, 
 needing only suggestions to turn his mind in right direc- 
 tions. 
 
 A hint from any source that bore upon his culture he 
 seized eagerly and implicitly obeyed it. No friend who 
 counseled him was ever made to feel that he was in the least 
 degree inattentive. Thus rewarding help by docility, he 
 soon enlisted many friends in his welfare. While he was 
 deprived of the thorough scholastic training that was pos- 
 sessed by Choate and Calhoun, yet he was receiving an 
 intellectual and practical drill that was specially adapted to 
 his mind. He was unique in two particulars. First he 
 abounded in intuitions, and besides this, his powers of gen- 
 eralization were broader than usually fall to the lot of the 
 lawyer. So that, all in all, he was competent to cope suc- 
 cessfuU}' with his more illustrious compeers. 
 
 At the age of nineteen he decided to study law, and to 
 this end was enrolled as a student in the offce of Attorney- 
 General Brooke. The preceding three years had been so 
 
274 THE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 skillfully manipulated in this direction that, after one 3'ear 
 of regular stud}- for the bar, he was admitted into the Court 
 of Appeals, as an attorney, though 3'et a minor. 
 
 With that unflagging determination to " reach up " for 
 his friends, we find him at this time forming the acquaint- 
 ance of John Marshall, afterward Chief Justice of the United 
 States. These companionships were never manoeu\-ered for. 
 In no sense would he truckle or plot tor position. His 
 upward bent of mind and manl}- aspirations caused him to 
 seek them without conscious assumption. It was not arro- 
 gance in Clay; he simpl}^ could not tolerate the societ}' of 
 those who knew no more than he. Whenever he found a 
 Gamaliel, he sat, as a teachable Saul, at his feet. He was 
 never afraid to ask questions. In this he seemed plagued 
 with Socrates' ghost, excepting that what the Athenian did 
 in sly cynicism, he did deferentially. He cornered every 
 old judge he met, plying him with suppositious cases, wish- 
 ing to know what his " honor " thought, until he would have 
 charmed any Common Pleas judge in the nation into friend- 
 ship. 
 
 So it was in the sciences, in theology, politics, histor}', 
 literature, every thing in which he was not posted. He 
 seized upon the first man he thought could inform him, and 
 honestly applied the divining rod, that he too might know. 
 His frank questionings thus secured to him an encyclopedia 
 of thoughts and facts which, in the same length of time, he 
 could have gained in no other way. 
 
 He could not help being a patriot. He had an oppor- 
 tunity of acquiring at the fountain-head a knowledge of the 
 meaning of the founders of the republic, in the constitution 
 which they drew up, and the laws which were passed 
 explanatory of it. His intimate relationship with Wythe, 
 
HENRY CLAY. 275 
 
 Marshall, Brooke, and man}' other political patriarchs, 
 apprised him of the cost of the Union, with which, really, 
 his life may be said to have begun; and in liis later }'ears he 
 proved himself, on many occasions, to be the friend of his 
 country, and one of its ablest defenders, whether the danger 
 came from foreign foes or from internal dissensions. 
 
 Clay was now twenty j'ears of age, and a member of the 
 Richmond bar. Still he displayed no intellectual superior- 
 ity. He was a member of a literary society, quite active in 
 its interests, and alwaj's in his seat, but his occasional 
 remarks were considered by no means superior to those of 
 the majorit}\ He was not remarkable for those brilliant 
 things which flashed from Ensign Erskine. But he %uas 
 noted for his straightforwardness and indefatigable energy. 
 The fires of ambition were now burning at a white heat. 
 He longed for an opportunity to try his powers, and put his 
 thumb on Nature's pulse, that he might learn what destiny 
 she was bearing him to. He craved a field of battle as 
 earnestly as Marathon's victor pra3-ed for the tard}' sun to 
 hasten up. Yet he felt that he could not make that start in 
 Richmond, in the presence of his old friends. His eagle ej'e 
 was not in " the keeping of the gods," and his sensitive 
 nature shrank from possible defeat. However, his eager 
 soul could wait no longer for the battle. It was then he left 
 Richmond, and, as though anticipating Greeley, came West. 
 
 He overlooked Cincinnati, Louisville, and Frankfort, and 
 settled in Lexington, Kentucky. Why he chose this point 
 is not known, unless it was to be near his mother, who had 
 emigrated to this place a few years before. Of this period 
 he writes: "I established myself in Lexington in 1797, 
 without patrons, without the favor or countenance of the 
 great or opulent, without the means of paying my weekly 
 
276 THE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 board, and in the midst of a bar distinguished b}' eminent 
 members. I remember how comfortable I thought I should 
 be if I could make one hundred pounds, Virginia money, 
 per year, and with what delight I received the first fifteen 
 shillings fee." He did not enter at once upon the practice 
 of law in Lexington, but allowed some months to pass in 
 farther preparatory studies before he applied for admission 
 as a practitioner. He had a guaranty of success in his 
 modest estimation of his own acquirements; and knowing 
 tlie distinguished men with whom he would have to cope, 
 he preferred to wait and review his studies and discipline his 
 mind by renewed application. 
 
 These waiting months were put in more assiduously than 
 ever in sharpening his weapons and polishing his mental 
 armor. He was modest, unassuming, still feeble in consti- 
 tution, languid and listless in his movements, giving no 
 indication of the mighty purpose that was forming in his 
 breast. But it must out ere long, or his frail body, that was 
 already tottering under the load, would be crushed from the 
 recoil of its own strength. It was at this time he became a 
 member of that famous debating club wherein he made his 
 first speech that attracted attention, and which he said gave 
 him more self-confidence than any thing he had ever done 
 up to that time. The question had been discussed at con- 
 siderable length, and apparently with much ability, on which 
 the customary vote was about to be taken, when he observed 
 in an undertone to a person seated by him, " The subject 
 does not seem to be exhausted." The individual addressed 
 exclaimed, "Do not put the question yet; Mr. Clay will 
 speak." The chairman, by a smile and nod of the head, 
 signified his willingness to allow the discussion to be contin- 
 ued, and Clay thereupon arose under every appearance of 
 
HENRY CLAY. 211 
 
 trepidation and embarrassment. The first words that fell 
 from his lips were, "Gentlemen of the jury." His embar- 
 rassment now was extreme; blushing, hesitating, and 
 stammering, he repeated the words, " Gentlemen of the 
 jury." The audience evinced genuine politeness and good 
 breeding, by seeming not to notice his peculiarly unpleasant 
 and tr3-ing position. Their courtes}- restored his composure. 
 He gradually gained control of his mind; his ideas began to 
 flow clear, and his persistent straining after correct forms of 
 speech caused them to be happily expressed. An earnest 
 desire to thoroughly redeem his opening speech from the 
 appearance of failure which it first assumed, quickened his 
 intellect and fired his emotions. Whatever credit for abili- 
 ties his silent good sense might have acquired for him 
 before, his success now surprised and delighted his audience. 
 That was an auspicious evening to hiin. It lifted the long- 
 closed flood-gates and let the pent-up determinations go 
 forth to action. It cast the horoscope of destin}-, and gave 
 assurance that the predictions of the old Chancellor would 
 be realized. 
 
 Clay was now on his wa}' to make a successful law3-er. 
 That speech, in profundity of thought, eloquence and effect 
 on the audience, was, of course, far short of the stupendous 
 character that history has assigned it. It was an unusual 
 speech for a debating club, but, like Patrick Henry's great 
 first speech, it was the gathered tliunders of many da3-s, 
 and, pealing from a clear sk}', it was more startling than 
 grand. Thenceforward he considered his ability to make a 
 speech no longer a question. The expectations of the com- 
 munity were to be allies on his side, and he himself had 
 awaked to a consciousness of his power. 
 
 To every class of mind there is something fascinating in 
 
278 THE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 the eloquence of proibuncl feeling. It arises, in part, from a 
 natural admiration of the display of loft}' power. But per- 
 haps none give themselves up so entirely to its influence as 
 do the unlearned and uncritical. Unaccustomed to dissem- 
 ble their emotions, impulsiveness becomes their ruling habit; 
 and, with something of the simplicity of children, they yield 
 themselves to the power of the orator. Eloquence is 
 regarded by them with more enthusiasm, perhaps, than e\en 
 military exploits, by which, notoriously, they are dazzled; 
 and the orator who can sway them at his will is more 
 applauded than the successful general. 
 
 Such minds demand fervor, and even vehemence, in their 
 speakers, and can more easily forgive a little infelicity of 
 reasoning than tameness in sentiment or manner. 
 
 Among such people, most fortunately, Henry Cla}' found 
 himself when the consciousness of his power as an orator 
 first flashed upon him. In the town of his residence, many 
 of the citizens were highly intelligent and refined; but "the 
 country people," as they were termed — those who consti- 
 tuted the mass of the population — were distinguished by 
 the characteristics of pioneer life: a resolute independence, 
 thorough, practical common sense, the utmost frankness of 
 feeling and manners, and unbounded admiration for rousing 
 oratory. 
 
 Occasions likewise favored the budding reputation of the 
 young orator. Demagogism was from the first abhorrent to 
 his soul. However much he might seek to work upon the 
 sympathies of his susceptible audiences, he never prostituted 
 his powers to artifice nor appealed to local and unworthy 
 prejudices. He delighted in expatiating upon those cher- 
 ished principles of freedom, for which our country had but 
 just triumphantly fought. In such themes he could indulge 
 
HENRY CLAY. '279 
 
 his loftiest declamation without offense to his high sense of 
 honor. 
 
 It is related of Erskine that, after his first speech, he had 
 placed in his hand retaining fees from thirty eminent law- 
 yers. The services of Henry Clay were now beginning to 
 be considered desirable. But prominence at that Lexington 
 bar was no light laurel to win. George Nicholas, John 
 Breckinridge and William Murray practiced there — men 
 whose names and fame were familiar to the nation. Such 
 an array seemed to set competition at defiance. Clay had 
 Bed from Richmond, but in fleeing from the elephant's plain 
 he had plunged into the lion's jungle. 
 
 They found in the boy, "however, a formidable competitor. 
 He was bland, courteous and affable in the ordinary inter- 
 course of life: in the social circle he was firm in his positions; 
 but if one, taking an opposite position, became vehement or 
 ultra-positive, he yielded the ground as gracefully as possi- 
 ble, frequentl}' causing his friends to feel that he lacked self- 
 assertion. Yet, on the field of civic strife he was as 
 unyielding and invulnerable as the Rock of Gibraltar. He 
 studied address and manner with the devotedness of Roscius, 
 the actor, who questioned Cicero's eloquence by asserting 
 that he could make a certain speech more effective by his 
 pantomime than Cicero by his declamation. While Clay 
 was acquiring reputation in societ}^ and as an orator with a 
 pleasureable degree of rapidity, his legal practice was not so 
 forward in its growth. 
 
 His first celebrit}' as an attorne}' was acquired in the 
 criminal practice; and yet he never prosecuted but one man 
 — a negro, charged with killing his overseer. Him he 
 brought to the gallows, but he ever after regretted it. 
 His feelings forbade his being a successful prosecutor, every 
 
280 THE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 instinct of his nature was on the side of the unfortunate. 
 Although a crime was atrocious and premeditated, his clem- 
 ency was so great, he felt there must be a place for 
 repentance and, therefore, for salvation. But his acute 
 sensibilities and philanthropic heart made him highly 
 eftective in a defense. 
 
 Among his first criminal cases was the defense of a father 
 and son for a murder that was cold-blooded and of the most 
 aggravated character. Clay felt the force of the oppor- 
 tunity, and determined to make an heroic effort. He real- 
 ized that 
 
 " There is a tide in the affairs of men 
 Which, taken at the flood, leads on to fortune; 
 Omitted, all the voyage of their life 
 Is bound in shallows and in miseries." 
 
 So that, when the wave struck him, he gave himself to the 
 current, unfurled his sails and steered for port. When 
 Rufus Choate had an important case, he knew no rest. He 
 pursued it with unremitting toil through the da}', and was 
 haunted by it at night. He did not labor on the general 
 features of the case alone ; the minutest details were ferreted 
 out and mastered with a conscieiitious de\otion amounting 
 to a passion. He entered his trials haggard and careworn, 
 but with the settled conviction of success to sustain him, and, 
 when the victory came, its tonic dispelled all the exhaustion 
 of labor. So Cla}' approached this case with a devotion 
 akin to worship. Success here, he felt, would be a turning- 
 point in his practice, and he put in an honest bid for " gen- 
 eral emploj'ment.'" 
 
 He studied every case on the records that was. at all 
 similar to the preseiit one. Fie prepared himself so that he 
 could not possibly be surprised on any point that might 
 
HEKRY CLAY. 281 
 
 come up. No other thought was permitted to enter his 
 mind for weeks. He ate with it and slept with it. His 
 whole being was rushing on in one mighty current of effort 
 for the prisoners' liberty. At last the trial was called, and 
 its conduct lasted live da3-s. Clay was equal to every emer- 
 gency; but the evidence was overpowering. The act, done 
 as it was in broad daylight, was undeniable. No conjuring 
 could justif}' the deed; no palliation was possible. The 
 defense was managed with consummate skill, but there were 
 the stubborn facts unchanged. 
 
 Cla}' realized that the prosecution was as well prepared 
 as the defense, and saw that unless he adopted other tactics, 
 all was lost. He still had a reserve in the background, in a 
 thoroughly prepared speech. He arose to address the jury 
 under the desperation of a forlorn hope. The breeding 
 aspirations of many months were in danger of being blighted 
 at a moment when he expected them to ripen into fruition. 
 The anguish of what he esteemed the lost cause gave a 
 pathos to his voice, a flash to his eye and a dignity to his 
 mien that he never possessed before. He was bold, impas- 
 sioned and tearful. You would ha\'e thought two saints in 
 the prisoners' pen were being crushed under the heel of an 
 iron law. Thfe jury deliberated an hour, and brought in a 
 verdict of manslaughter onl}-. For an instant the people 
 were amazed; then the}' burst forth, "That speech did it." 
 Cla}' himself was confounded. 
 
 His wits were at work at once. There was still a hope 
 of victor}^ A breach had been made. He flew to his feet 
 and moved an arrest of judgment. All day long he con- 
 tended for his motion, and toward evening he was rewarded 
 by securing the liberty of his clients. This well-fought bat- 
 tle, with its victory, brought to him a criminal practice 
 
282 THE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 greater than his most sanguine hopes had anticipated. He 
 had studied diligentl}' and long, had preferred threadbare 
 clothes to ignorance and debt, had lived the life of a recluse, 
 forswearing the world's joys; and now, having overcome, 
 there did not lack for those who delighted in paying him 
 honor. Henceforth he was established as the ''criminal's 
 defendant." 
 
 At the close of the trial his clients expressed their warm- 
 est gratitude to their deliverer, promising a better life in the 
 future. The corpulent little woman that one of the men 
 called wife and the other mother, was unbounded in her 
 expression of thanks. When the judge ordered the sheriff 
 to set the prisoners free she made a dive for Clay, who was 
 yet in his seat, throwing her arms around, his neck in the 
 most frantic manner. He leaned forward to her embrace 
 with such sweet tenderness that the crowd burst into wild 
 applause. Confused, he rose up and straightened out his 
 long body, which lifted the fat little lady off her feet and 
 left her clinging to his neck. The crowd yelled like demons. 
 Almost smothered with her kisses and his own blushes, he 
 bent over with all the dignity the circumstances would per- 
 mit and set his fair charge on the floor again. His honor 
 lost his dignity, and, leaning back in his chair, said to the 
 sheriff, "Sam, let 'em holler." 
 
 Mr. Clay manifested great sagacity in discerning and 
 turning to his advantage a technical law point involving 
 doubt. Like the carefully prepared extempores of Sheridan, 
 he was equipped with legal points and arguments for any 
 issue that could possibly arise. 
 
 It has been thought that INIr. Clay's success as a lawyer 
 was altogether owing to his eloquence. This is far from 
 the facts in the case. Petit jurors are not all fools. There 
 
HENRY CLAY. 28S 
 
 are often as good minds in a jury box as among the advo- 
 cates before it, unless it is a " professional " jury. Clay's 
 appeals to the jur}- were of the same character as his argu- 
 ments before the judges. Indeed, he spoke alike on all occa- 
 sions, for he had but one style of oratory. To debar him 
 froin its eagle swoop was to leave him a shorn Samson. 
 Like DeQuincey, his soul must spread its wings and go to 
 the same height, whether discoursing on philosophy or order- 
 ing the cook to cut the mutton with the grain. The vast 
 compass of his legal knowledge, drawn from his extensive 
 reading and questioning, made him as thorough and efficient 
 in the civil practice as he was powerful in the criminal. lie 
 was not one of those attorneys who, knowing no law, when 
 the case is presented, descends into the details, asking more 
 questions than a homoeopathic physician of his patient. A 
 brief outline was enough. His knowledge was so profound 
 and complete he at once saw its relation to the established 
 rules of practice, and knew whether it would be lost or won. 
 He seemed to have a penchant for complicated cases — 
 those where the weight of the law seemed evenly balanced 
 on each side. In that early day, in Kentucky, land claims 
 were frequently arbitrated. In the settlement of these he 
 rendered himself very conspicuous. He really liked this 
 practice more than he did the criminal, and his success in it 
 was fully as eminent. It is related of him that being 
 engaged in one that involved immense interests, he associ- 
 ated with him a prominent lawj-er to whom he intrusted its 
 management, as urgent business demanded his absence 
 from court. Two daj's were occupied in discussing the 
 legal points that were to govern the instructions of the court 
 to the jury, on all of which his colleague was frustrated. 
 Mr. Clay returned before a decision was rendered, and with- 
 
284- THE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 •out acquainting himself with the nature of the testimon}^ 
 or ascertaining the manner in which the discussion had been 
 conducted, after conferring a few minutes with his associate, 
 he prepared and presented in a few words the form in wliich 
 he wished the instructions to be given, accompan3'ing it 
 with his reasons, which were so convincing that the suit was 
 terminated in his favor in less than an hour, after he re- 
 entered the court room. 
 
 Mr. Cla}' belonged to nature's aristocracy. He was a 
 "born king, but his crown sat so naturally on his brow that 
 men paid him reverence who never saw the insignia of his 
 power, although they were lightened b}' its luster. He 
 inoved in the world feeling that no man had better blood or 
 more royalty than he. And yet he felt that every other 
 man possessed all that he did. He recognized all mankind 
 as his brethren. He held humanit}' to be of common 
 parentage, and that the plastic hand of one Father molded 
 us all in Eden. Constitutionally he would have rebelled 
 against Darwinism. He was modest but masterly in his 
 views of things. Versatility was the offspring of his wide- 
 reaching effort. 
 
 If he found his religion largely in the worship of nature, 
 he recognized no fetish for a God. At once courtly and 
 refined, his dignity of soul added height and moral grandeur 
 to his stature. His manner of address was the same whether 
 in the company of the ignorant dame or the cultivated lady 
 — with the buckskinned backwoodsman or the spectacled 
 D.D. He never straightened nor unbent, forgot his chivalry 
 nor assumed gravity, before peasant or prince. To all and 
 with all he was the same true gentleman. In this particular 
 it is hard now to find his equal, unless we fall upon Hugo. 
 
 Cla}^ was living in a country where the metal of manhood 
 
HEXRT CLAY. 285 
 
 needed to be polished on all sides. The rectangular life of 
 a Jefterson might possibly pass current in circumspect Vir- 
 ginia, presided over, as she was, by the Episcopal parsons; 
 but when he pushed into the interior of Kentuck}^ and met 
 the disciples of Daniel Boone, the laced jacket of political 
 stateliness was considered tawdry livery. Much as a dem- 
 agogue is to be likened to the chameleon, in the presence of 
 such a shrewd constituency some keen e3'e will detect the 
 true color. Before it nothing can sa^"e a man from expos- 
 ure, excepting to have nothing to expose. Manhood never 
 flinches, though placed under the most sensitive touch-stone; 
 and nature's nobleman is the only character that is flexible 
 enough to bend and adapt itself to all kinds of people. 
 
 In 1807, Mr. Clay was a candidate for the Legislature of 
 Kentuck}'. One day, while on his canvassing tour, addres- 
 sing a crowd, a party of riflemen, who had been practicing, 
 attracted by his voice, drew near to listen. The}' were 
 pleased with the oft'-hand and attractive style of his oratory, 
 but considered there were other qualifications necessary to 
 fit one for the legislative hall, besides talk. One of their 
 number, who had evidentl}" seen much backwoods service, 
 stood leaning on his rifle, regarding the young speaker with 
 a fixed and most sagacious look. 
 
 He was the Nimrod of the company, and was clad in 
 buckskin breeches, hunting-shirt and coon-skin cap, with a 
 visage as tanned as his bullet-pouch. At his belt hung 
 knife and hatchet, and, over his breast the indispensable 
 powder-horn. The countenance of this man looked as true 
 as his rifle's shot or his knife's steel. When the speech was 
 closed, he beckoned to Mr. Cla}-, who immediately 
 approached him. " Young man,'' said he, " you want to 
 go the Legislature, I see." " Wh}', }'es," replied Cla}- — 
 
286 THE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 " yes, I should like to go, since my friends have seen proper 
 to put me up as a candidate before the people. I do not 
 wish to be defeated." The old man straightened himself 
 up, and, looking over his broad manors — the unsettled for- 
 ests — he turned and said, "Are you a good shot.''" Clay 
 replied that he considered himself the best in the countr}' at 
 some things. " Then, you shall go the Legislature; but we 
 must see you shoot." " But," said Clay, " I never shoot 
 an}' rifle but my own, and that's at home." " No matter," 
 said Nimrod, " here is Old Bess ; she never fails in the 
 hands of a hunter. She has put a bullet through many a 
 squirrel's head at a hundred yards. If }ou can shoot with 
 any thing, }ou can with Old Bessy " Put up your mark, 
 put up your mark," said Cla}', for he saw there was no 
 escape, and he was resolved to tr}', hit or miss. The target 
 was placed at eight}' yards, when, with all the coolness of 
 an old marksman, he drew Old Bess to his shoulder and 
 fired. The bullet pierced the buirs-e}'e — to his own com- 
 plete surprise. "Oh! a chance shot! a chance shot ! " cried 
 his political opponents. " lie might shoot all da}' and not 
 hit it again. Let him try it over." " No; beat that, and 
 I will," i-etorted Clay. No one accepted the fair offer, and 
 he, willing to let well enough alone, retired from the crowd, 
 bearing the glory of a " capital shot." He had done honor 
 to the Kentucky weapon, and every hunter voted for him. 
 He went to the Legislature by an overwhelming majority. 
 
 He had in after-life more fame in rifle practice than he 
 desired. When in Europe, as commissioner to make a 
 treaty with England, at the close of the war of 1812, he 
 was represented in an English paper as the man who killed 
 Tecumseh, and it was furthermore gravely stated that he 
 
HENRY CLAY. 287 
 
 manufactured razor-strops from the skins of the Indians he 
 killed! 
 
 Clay's genius and talents, now seen and acknowledged 
 by all, had gained for him high professional honors, and 
 fitted him to act a prominent part on another and more 
 extensive field — that of the patriot politician. The date of 
 his entrance on this field may be placed as far back as 1797, 
 and it is worthy of particular remark that the first subject he 
 was led to investigate on approaching it was one peculiarly 
 calculated to call into exercise those prominent features of 
 his character, philanthropy and patriotism. Slavery, although 
 existing in its mildest form, could not and did not appear to 
 him otherwise than unsightly and revolting — an evil, and 
 one of great magnitude; nor did he hesitate to pronounce it 
 such. To him its practical tendencies, in public and civil 
 no less than in private and social life, were obviously bad. 
 He saw it diffusing its baneful influences through the halls 
 of legislation, and twining its sable folds around the very 
 pillars of government, contaminating and withering all that 
 it touched. His was not the position of an unmoved or 
 speculating observer; the mightiest energies, the holiest 
 impulses of his nature, were kindled within him, to arrest 
 its progress. But in yielding, as he did, prompt obedience 
 to those emotions, he did not rush, madman-like, impelled 
 by a blind zeal, into the work, regardless of results. The 
 sanguinary consequences of such a course rose up and 
 stared him full in the face, with most appalling power, nor 
 could he shut his eyes to the palpable fact that it would 
 inevitably eventuate in the utter annihilation of those very 
 interests he sought to protect. It appeared necessary, there- 
 fore, to advance cautiously: to sit down, and, divested of 
 all prejudice, wisely count the cost. He found it requisite 
 
288 THE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 to act the part of a skillful and experienced operator, not 
 that of a conceited empiric; to have the bandage and the 
 liniment ready before resorting to the scalpel and cauting- 
 iron. After taking the most enlightened view of the subject, 
 regarding it in all its aspects and bearings, he came to the 
 conclusion that the only method to insure the safet}- of the 
 body politic, and preserve inviolate the institutions upon 
 which the republic was founded, was gradual disengagement. 
 Hence he sought b}' every available means to secure the 
 introduction of a provision to that effect, in a new constitu- 
 tion then under consideration for adoption. Happy would 
 it have been for Kentucky had she listened to the entreaties 
 of her son in this behalf. 
 
 Mr. Clay was now exceedingly popular. No man in his 
 State could be called his rival. Opponents he had, and scores 
 of them. They harassed him by da}', and pursued him 
 slanderous^ through the night. To all this he gave little 
 heed. True, he was worn and sickened by it, but he never 
 once relaxed his studies or his aspirations. No young man 
 can hope to pass to professional success unscathed by jealous 
 rivals. If he would win the smiles of those who are his 
 equals, he must be content to remain on their level. Sure 
 as he moves beyond them one step he severs the tie that 
 binds them together, and they become his enemies. If, like 
 the sensitive Keats, he cowers before their criticism and 
 innuendoes, rushes into despair, and dies of a broken heart, 
 they will gratefully cherish his memory by garlanding his 
 grave with passion flowers and poetry; but if he persists in 
 obeying the star of his destiny, if he listens only to the mo- 
 nitions of his own "most prophetic and oracular soul," it 
 must be for man}- days with the timid countenance of faint- 
 
HENRY CLAY. 289 
 
 hearted friends, the treacherous help of pretended ones, and 
 in spite of the open opposition of rivals and enemies. 
 
 To stop half wa}- is to be damned. Expectation is 
 blasted, self-respect is crushed, and envy has accomplished 
 its malign purpose. Many a man of good ability has been 
 swept before this storm, wrecking every possibility. Just 
 here is where Grant's '' unconditional surrender '' needs to 
 be operated, or Bulwer's grit, or Coll3^er's "salt." If Cal- 
 houn had shrunk when his school-fellows laughed at his 
 Congressional aspirations, he would never have belonged to 
 the immortal Triumvirate. Had Disraeli fled when the 
 galleries and seats jeered him, he would never have spent a 
 quarter of a century practicing " ins and onts " with 
 Gladstone. If Nelson had hesitated when the sailors said, 
 " What! make a captain out of that little fellow.'' " he would 
 never have led the British fleet to victory. If the boy West 
 had cried and quit because the cat scratched him when he 
 was pulhng the hairs out of her tail to make a brush, he 
 would never have been a great painter. 
 
 If any man had reasons for faltering before the inachina- 
 tions of rivals and the treacher}^ of false friends, that man 
 was Henry Clay. But all such opposition onl\- increased 
 his inclinations to study, and deepened his determination to 
 get on. He soon passed up to the second story of achieve- 
 ment, and only a few of his most implacable enemies 
 pursued him thither. Once succeed in establishing ^"oursclf 
 above the level of your old associates, thus passing bej'ond 
 their sphere, and rivalry soon ceases. It is, also, in many 
 instances a good method of converting foes into friends. 
 
 Mr. Clay had taken so prominent a part in questions that 
 had involved the interest of the entire State that he was 
 chosen for the United States Senate in 1 809. He at once 
 
2(X) THE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 engaged actively in Senatorial business. Earnestness was 
 the chiet" cause of his success. His eloquence could have 
 contributed no lasting prosperity if his heart had not swelled, 
 at all times, with an honest desire to know and do his whole 
 duty. He was a patriot of the t}'pe of Themistocles, in 
 whose bosom devotion to countr}' was the ruling principle. 
 We therefore see him refusing to take a position on any 
 matter without giving it the gravest consideration. His 
 soul was surcharged with the eternal principles which under- 
 lie the Declaration and the Constitution, and whenever a 
 State or national movement would not drop into place in 
 the great temple without the sound of a hammer, he 
 rejected it as a stone of stumbling and rock of offense. Such 
 was his sagacity, never but once in his public career did he 
 find need to change his opinion and advocate a measure he 
 had once opposed. 
 
 When he entered the Senate he found it discussing the 
 erection of a bridge over the Potomac. Its erection was 
 strongly desired by the inhabitants of Washington and 
 Alexandria, and as strongly deprecated by those of George- 
 town. Many efforts were made by both parties to secure 
 his services in aid of their particular interests, but nothing 
 definite could be ascertained respecting his views in relation 
 to the bill, and he refused to commit himself by pledging 
 his support or opposition to it. He was not, though, indif- 
 ferent to the proposed measure, but diligentl}' employed 
 himself in settling in his own mind the question of its con- 
 stitutionalit}', and in deciding on its expediency. The result 
 of his investigations was the conviction that it was sanctioned 
 by the constitution, and a judicious measure of internal 
 polic}'. He so regarded it in a speech which he made in its 
 favor, by which he succeeded in producing a similar convic- 
 
\ 
 
 HENRT CLAY. 291 
 
 tion in the minds of all the members who had not pledged 
 themselves to oppose it, and thus secured its passage. This 
 speech, although never reported, is represented as one of his 
 happiest efforts, distinguished for satire and humor, as well 
 as for gravity and sound logical argument; indeed, as 
 embod^-ing all the characteristics of a perfect specimen of 
 eloquence. From the ground there taken, and the first time 
 publich', as to what he deemed true governmental polic}-, in 
 relation to internal improvement, he never afterward receded. 
 With proud satisfaction may the friends of that system of 
 which he has been justly styled "///e Father,'' point to this 
 unparalleled example of unwavering adherence and fidelity 
 to principles since demonstrated to be the only permanent 
 source of our national prosperity. 
 
 In 1811, the causes of complaint against England were 
 renewed. Her officers in foreign ser\-ice omitted no oppor- 
 tunity of displa}ing toward us their insolence. One of our 
 vessels of war had been fired into, almost within our own 
 borders. They forcibly entered our ships, and, under the 
 pretext of searching for their fugitive sailors, impressed our 
 seamen. According to a statement in Congress, seven thou- 
 sand of our countrymen were, at the moment of the report, 
 forcibly detained in her service. All remonstrance proved 
 ineffectual. Lord Castlereagh treated contemptuousl}' the 
 idea that England would relinquish her right of search. 
 
 War or national servitude was inevitable. Randolph, 
 Pitkin and Quincy opposed war. Randolph pleaded that 
 we were unprepared for war. We were without a nav}', 
 without an army, without munitions of war. Thus he met 
 every effort to strengthen our weakness with vigorous oppo- 
 sition. Pitkin brought all his personal influence and logic to 
 bear against the war, or any bill looking to preparation for 
 
292 THE GENIUS OP INDUSTRY. 
 
 defense. Quincey opposed the war spirit with his unrivaled 
 characterizations. Speaking of the war, he observed: 
 " There is nothing in histor}- like this war since the in\'asion 
 of the buccaneers. The disgrace of our armies is celestial 
 glory compared to the disgrace reflected on our country by 
 this invasion [the proposed invasion of Canada]; yet it is 
 called a war for glory! Glory.? Yes, such glory as that of 
 the tiger when he tears the bowels from the lamb, filling the 
 wilderness with its savage roars; the glory of Jenghis 
 Khan, without his greatness; the glory of Bonaparte. 
 Far from me and mine, and far from my countr}' be such 
 glory!" 
 
 Mr. Clay replied to him in a speech of most pointed vet 
 merited rebuke, and couched in language that stung like a 
 scorpion. 
 
 A correct idea of the effect produced it is impossible to 
 gather from his reported speech, though in general accur- 
 ately given. Look, tone, gesture, and manner contributed 
 largely to its greatness — perhaps as much as the "thoughts 
 that breathe and words that burn," which in one continuous 
 stream fell from his eloquent lips, causing the hearts of his 
 hearers to thrill alternately with pleasure and pain. It is 
 represented as having been an exquisite specimen of grand 
 eloquence — a felicitous blending of the beautiful, pathetic 
 and sublime. He seemed to wave the enchanted wand of 
 the fabled magician, now spreading peace and quiet, now 
 causing the most stormy emotions to swell the hearts of 
 those who listened to him. Members of both political par- 
 ties — men whose patriotic souls had been sustained by his 
 eloquence, and those who had been writliing and agonizing 
 under his indignation, forgot their antipathies and wept 
 together. 
 
HENRY OLAT. 293 
 
 Mr. Cla}^ had the pleasure of seeing the bill, as advocated 
 by him, pass the House, on the fourteenth of January, 1813, 
 by a vote of seventy-se\-en to forty-two. On the sixteenth 
 (having passed the Senate) it received the signature of the 
 President; and thus was taken another and very important 
 step in carrying out that system of manly and bold resist- 
 ance devised and introduced by him, and which was destined 
 to redress all our grievances and restore our violated rights. 
 
 During the interval between the adjournment and re- 
 assembling of Congress, Mr. Cla}' watched the progress of 
 the war with the most intense interest. T///s was ihe all- 
 absorbing subject of his soul^ engaging its every facult}' and 
 principle; and the efforts which he made to secure its suc- 
 cessful termination were as strenuous as they were unre- 
 mitted. In public assemblies, in private circles, it was the 
 theme on which he dwelt continually, and around which he 
 twined the richest wreaths of his oratorical and colloquial 
 skill. 
 
 The histories of the Grecian and Roman republics furnish 
 many instances of exalted, self-sacriticing patriotism — of 
 those who under its influence met death as joyfull}' as the}' 
 would have met a friend. Inspired b}' this principle we 
 hear one of their bards exclaim: 
 
 " Dulce et decorum est pro patria mori." 
 It is sweet and glorious to die for one's country. 
 But the lofty action of Mr. Clay in connection with this his 
 country's crisis, his prompt response to her cr}- for aid, his 
 unwavering attachment to her cause, and his ardent devo- 
 tion to her interests, present an example of patriotic love 
 and zeal, which may be placed by the side of similar ones 
 on the records of those nations, without the slightest f 'ar of 
 disparagement — indeed, as jur^ti^ing the belief that if she 
 
294 TEE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 had required a similar sacrifice, the victim would not have 
 been wanting. 
 
 Russia soon offered her interposition to bring about peace, 
 which was finally accepted by the two countries. Mr. Clay, 
 with Gallatin, Bayard, Adams, and Russell, acted as negotia- 
 tors on the part of America; and Lord Gambler, Goul- 
 bourne, and Adamos, for the British. The Commissioners 
 met at Ghent, and the conference resulted greatly to the 
 benefit of America. The odious right of search was relin- 
 quished. The navigation of the Mississippi was denied to 
 English vessels. The privilege of fishing in British waters 
 was not withdrawn. The impertinent claim to extend a 
 supervision over our Indian tribes was abandoned. And so 
 well were the principal rights which were contended for 
 established, that America never since has had occasion for 
 those complaints which drove her reluctantly into conflict 
 with her haught}' foe 
 
 After concluding negotiations, Mr. Clay proceeded to 
 Paris. He delayed, as yet, to go to England; for during 
 his residence at Ghent, he had learned with chagrin of the 
 capture of Washington. But while he remained undecided, 
 the intelligence came of the battle of New Orleans. " Now," 
 he exclaimed, " I can go to England without mortification." 
 
 The results of the war, so highly satisfactory to American 
 pride, carried a significance far beyond such emotions. It 
 decisively stamped our arm}' and navy as the equal of Eng- 
 land's, and therefore the peer of any in the world. We 
 were not simply an independent nationality, but were an 
 established power among the nations. To lead the country 
 in the war, control her negotiations for peace, and seat her 
 on the lofty basis of equality with the "established powers," 
 while yet an infant nation, was an achievement of statesman- 
 
HENRY CLAY. 295 
 
 ship that must rank side by 'side with the deeds of him who 
 was " first in war, first in peace, and first in the hearts of 
 his countrymen." 
 
 Mr. Clay did not appreciate at that time the salutary 
 results that were to accrue to his country from these labors. 
 He only saw the imminent danger threatening the nation's 
 commerce and prosperity. This calamity, as a patriot, he 
 sought to avert, endeavoring to build a bulwark against it 
 for all coming time. Devotion to his country's interests 
 alone filled his breast. Had he been actuated b}^ ambition 
 or lust of personal glory, no such service could have been 
 accomplished. But when he labored under* the imperious 
 dictates of necessity, duty and honor, it nerved his arm and 
 impelled him to heroism of conduct that the mere politician 
 or glory-seeker can never know. 
 
 Mr. Madison acknowledged the merit and abilities of Mr. 
 Clay, by offering him, upon his return from Europe, after 
 the treaty of peace, the situation of Minister to Russia, and 
 again, upon the occurrence of a vacancy in his Cabinet, the 
 Secretaryship of War. Thus honors poured in upon the 
 rising statesman from every quarter. Success had smiled 
 upon him from the first. By none of the artifices of the 
 demagogue; by no special solicitation of any kind, he had 
 risen to such estimation, that honors, instead of being sought 
 by him, might almost be said to have come to him soliciting 
 acceptance. 
 
 He declined the offers of the Executive, and re-entered 
 the halls of legislation to battle for internal improvements 
 and home industry. Political sentiment, tiom the day on 
 which the Constitution was adopted, had been divided as to 
 the right which that instrument confers to carry on systems 
 of improvement within the different States at the expense of 
 
296 THE GENIUS OB' INDUSTIiY. 
 
 the Federal Government. Mr. Clay brought all his vast 
 resources to the support of the constitutional right and duty 
 of the government to control impro\ements of a general 
 interest in the States. He had the satisfaction of seeing the 
 bill pass. The wholesome growth that has resulted to the 
 States and nation therefrom proves it to be a wise and gen- 
 erous measure. 
 
 He also advocated home industry. He was so intensely 
 American that he could not tolerate the idea of importing 
 any thing from foreign countries. His plan was to foster 
 our own manufactures and encourage invention until there 
 would be no need of foreign goods. It is a remarkable fact 
 that the first two subjects which demanded and secured his 
 aid on entering Congress were those of primary importance 
 to the welfare of the republic — subjects subsequently shown 
 in the unillusive light of experience to be not only as inti- 
 mately connected with private as with public prosperity, but 
 as constituting the very lungs of Liberty herself. 
 
 Now the increasing prospect of war ser\ed in some 
 degree to arouse the nation Irom that lethargic state of 
 indifference in which it had so long slumbered. At least it 
 was deemed advisable to anticipate such an event b)' making 
 provision for the materials usually needed in such an emer- 
 gency. Accordingly, a bill was introduced to appropriate 
 a sum of money to purchase cordage sail-cloths, and the 
 ordinary munitions of war, and so amended as to give pre- 
 ference to articles of domestic growth and manufacture, 
 provided the interests of the nation should not suffer 
 thereby. Mr. Llo^-d, a Senator from Massachusetts, moved 
 to strike out the amendment granting the preference, and 
 supported his motion by a long and powerful speech. A 
 sreneral and interesting discussion ensued, in which the 
 
HENRY CLAY. 297 
 
 policy of extending direct protection by the Government to 
 domestic manufactures was considered. Mr. Clay was 
 among the tirst to avow himself decidedly in favor of the 
 policy, and by his speech made at that time proved both its 
 expediency and wisdom. 
 
 Mr. Clay was brilliant in illustration, and always made an 
 effort to demonstrate, as far as possible, the correctness of 
 his positions. Especially did he make a vigorous attempt 
 at this soon after the above speech. A Western vine 
 grower had presented him with some specimen bottles of 
 American wine. So pleased was he with this evidence that 
 we need not go abroad even for luxuries, that on going to 
 Washington, he carried a bottle or two with him to aston- 
 ish the anti - American • system men with the American 
 vintage. It was produced by him at a public table, duly 
 prefaced with a brief " protective speech." Upon tasting it, 
 his guests, in spite of their politeness, looked awry and con- 
 fused. Mr. Cla}' hastened to put it to his own lips, and 
 found it was — Lexington whisk}'. Some of the hands 
 about the house had drunk the wine and refilled the bottles 
 with something decidedly American, but still quite foreign 
 ito the purpose. 
 
 The next important measure in which we find Mr. Clay 
 engaged is the famous " Missouri Compromise." This was 
 not a struggle between this and other governments, but the 
 more deadly evil of civil dissension. I"or the first time he 
 was demanded to pacify fraternal strife. He had earned 
 proud laurels on foreign fields, but he was now to take the 
 helm of state when every sailor quaked, and every piece of 
 timber trembled — to guide her safely through the storm. 
 In 1787, while the States were united, as yet, simply by ar- 
 ticles of confederation, an ordinance was unanimously agreed 
 
298 THE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 to for the government of the territory northwest of the 
 Ohio. This ordinance, among other provisions declared 
 that " there shall be neither slavery nor involuntar}' serv- 
 itude in the said territor}-. otherwise than the punishment of 
 crimes whereof the party shall be dul}- convicted." This 
 provision had been strictly adhered to up to the date of the 
 application of Missouri for admission. 
 
 Prior to 1820, when the Missouri question was settled, 
 ten States had been added to the original thirteen. Among 
 these were Vermont (separated from New York) and 
 Maine (from Massachusetts) — States in which slavery was 
 not mentioned ; besides Ohio, Indiana, and Illinois, from the 
 territor}' north and west of the Ohio. By the constitutions of 
 these last three States, slavery was expressly excluded, in 
 accordance with the terms of the ordinance above men- 
 tioned. To balance these five free States, Tennessee (from 
 North Carolina) Kentucky (from Virginia) Louisiana (from 
 the Louisiana purchase) and Mississippi and Alabama 
 (from lands ceded to the United States by Georgia), had 
 been admitted into the Union. In these States slavery had 
 not been forbidden, as they formed portions of territory 
 formerly held by slave States; and occupied, so far as settled, 
 by slaveholders. 
 
 The State of Missouri was formed out of a part of the 
 Louisiana purchase; and it was contended that the new 
 State should follow the precedents of the other States which 
 had been created out of slave territory. Louisiana had 
 slaves, and as INIissouri was another portion of the same 
 purchase, it was demanded that she should be received on 
 the same footing as a slaveholding State. The argument 
 had weight, independent of any question as to slaver}-, upon 
 its merits or demerits. If any State under the Constitution 
 
HENRY CLAY. 299 
 
 and the precedents established was entitled to hold slaves, 
 Missouri had that right; since the French province of 
 Louisiana, of which her territory formed a part, recognized 
 slavery. 
 
 Missouri's petition to become a State was forced, in the 
 war of debate that arose, to go over until the next session 
 of Congress. The whole country became aroused over the 
 question, and party feeling ran higher than ever before. Mr. 
 Clay labored heroically to reconcile the painful differences. 
 Just at this time financial embarrassments compelled him to 
 resign his office as Speaker of the House, and betake him- 
 self again to the practice of his profession. But the 
 threatening attitude of the contending parties did not permit 
 him to remain away long. Leaving behind what had now 
 become the lesser concerns of private interest, he resumed 
 his seat in Congress. 
 
 His undoubted patriotism, his tried integrity, his unrivaled 
 popularity, pointed him out as the only man in the nation 
 who was* able to bridge the chasm. Measure after measure 
 was proposed, but to no avail. Excitement ran higher, and 
 party lines were more distinctly drawn. Finally Mr. Clay 
 succeeded in getting a joint committee appointed from the 
 two Houses to consider the case, before which he introduced 
 his famous " Missouri Compromise," which was that Mis- 
 souri should be admitted as a slave State, with a proviso 
 that in all the territory ceded to the United States by 
 France, north of latitude thirty-six degrees, thirty minutes, 
 slavery shall not exist; the limits of Missouri being ex- 
 cepted. 
 
 The report when laid before the House was adopted by a 
 vote of eighty-seven to eighty-one. Missouri acquiesced in 
 it, and thus, at last, was settled the question which threat- 
 
300 THE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 ened at one time to rend asunder the Union and kindle the 
 flames of civil war. It was in this great conflict that Mr. 
 Clay received the name of the Great Pacificator. 
 
 Mr. Chn's wit was as vigorous as his eloquence, and, 
 like Sheridan's humor, it often ser\"ed to parry what logic 
 and declamation could not have met. He never sought to 
 hide a mistake, but fi-ankly confessed every failure, which 
 restored to him the confidence of those who were retiring 
 from his support. He always oiled the blunder with his pleas- 
 antry so that you actually thought more of the man than 
 before. On one occasion he \ oted for the " Compensation 
 bill," which was to increase the pay of Congressmen to 
 fifteen hundred dollars per session. This of course gave 
 the demagogues an opportunity to fire the minds of the 
 people against the " stall-fed aristocrat." In the next can- 
 vass Mr. Clay met an old hunter who had previously been 
 his devoted friend, but now opposed him on the ground of 
 the Compensation bill. " Have you a good rifle, my friend.'' " 
 asked Mr. Clay. "Yes." " Does it ever flash.? " "Once 
 only." " What did you do with it; throw it awa}'.'* " '' No, 
 I picked the flint, tried it again, and brought down the 
 game." " Have I ever flashed but on the Compensation 
 bill.'' " " No." " Will you throw me away.? " " No! no! " 
 quickly replied the hunter, nearl}- o\erwhelmed by his 
 enthusiastic feelings, " / ivill pick the flint atid try you 
 again ! " Ever afterward he was the unwavering friend of 
 Mr. Clay. 
 
 His wit was not like Chamfort's, epigrammatic and 
 pointed at the follies of the time. He was too intensely 
 earnest for this. Neither was it like Dr. Johnson's, which 
 never failed to hit its object, but when the bomb broke it 
 fluns fii"e on friend and foe alike. He was neither morose 
 
HENRY CLAT. 301 
 
 nor sour enough for this. Rather, Hke Chatham, the humor 
 came bubbling up from a soul jolly as a tar's, yet sober and 
 chivalrous as Achilles. While it cut deep, it seldom failed 
 to elicit a smile, even from his victim. 
 
 On one occasion, the late General Alexander Smyth, of 
 Virginia, a gentleman of unusual ability and erudition, had 
 spoken a long time, fatiguing and vexing the House with 
 the length and number of his quotations and citations ot 
 authorities, and justified his unbearable prolixity by saying 
 to Mr. Clay, who was seated near him, " Ton, sir, speak lor 
 the present generation, but / speak for posterity." " Yes," 
 he immediately replied, " and 3'ou seem resolved to speak 
 until the arrival of your audience! " 
 
 During his long occupancy of the Speaker's chair, he was 
 characterized by an eminent spirit of justice. His decisions 
 were seldom appealed from, and when they were, they were 
 almost invariably sustained by the House. He seemed to 
 act as though he were conscious that his country stood at 
 his side, with her piercing eyes fixed full upon him, reading 
 the secrets of his heart — as though he heard her voice 
 sounding in his ears, imploring and beseeching him to guard 
 and watch faithfully over those interests which she had so 
 unreservedly placed in his hands, and whenever he lifted his 
 arm, or opened his mouth, it seemed to be for the single 
 purpose of executing her revealed ivill. 
 
 About this time Mr. Cla}' became a candidate for the 
 Presidency. He was universall}' believed to be the choice 
 of the people, but a combination of circumstances threw 
 the election into the House, and defeated his aspirations. 
 His own hopes, crushed and bleeding, could not chill the 
 ardor of his intense patriotism. Like Demosthenes, his 
 country was above party, and for her prosperity he was 
 
302 THE GESICS OF IS DUST RY. 
 
 willing to be sacrificed. During the canvass he sent for a 
 friend to ad\"ise with him on a certain measure. The friend, 
 guarding Mr. Clay's chances above all else, suggested that 
 it might be unfortunate for his Presidential prospects. • I 
 sent for you." said Mr. Clay, ''to advise with me whether 
 this would be right. Sir. I vjould rather be right than be 
 President." 
 
 The tariff of 1824, which was levied with the most con- 
 scientious regard for the good of the nation, and the 
 encouragement of home industry, proved in its practical 
 application to be a grievous burden. While it protected 
 New England, it sapped the very life out of the industries 
 of the South and West: it fostered a powerful moneyed 
 interest in one section of the countr}- at the expense of the 
 other. Legislative redress appeared impossible in the face 
 of the dominant party, and more extreme measures were 
 threatened. 
 
 South Carolina especially denounced the law as unconsti- 
 tutional and odious; threatened to disregard it, and entered 
 upon a course which bore the appearance of open rebellion. 
 
 General Jackson was at the head of the Government. 
 He detested the law almost as much as South Carolina, but 
 since it was a law. he determined that, at all hazards, it 
 should be obeyed. Inflammatory meetings were held at 
 Charleston. Open resistance to the ofBcers of the Govern- 
 ment was recommended. Materials for war were collected. 
 Meanwhile United States troops were sent to the disaffected 
 State. Jackson, it was believed, would bombard at the least 
 provocation the city of Charleston, and hang as traitors 
 Hayne. Calhoun and others of the leaders. Intense excite- 
 ment pervaded the countr}'. 
 
 Randolph, broken down with age and yet more bv disease. 
 
HENRT CLAY. 303 
 
 was aroused bv the sounds of coming strife. " Lifted into 
 his carriage like an infant," sa3S his biographer, " he went 
 from county to county, and spoke with a power that efTect- 
 ually aroused the slumbering multitudes. In the course 
 of his speech at Buckingham he is reported to have said: 
 ' Gentlemen, I am filled with the most gloomy apprehensions 
 for the fate of the Union. I can not express to you how 
 deeply I am penetrated with a sense of the danger which, 
 at this moment, threatens its existence. If Madison filled 
 the Executi\-e chair, he might be bullied into some compro- 
 mise. If Monroe was in power, he might be coaxed into 
 some adjustment of this difficulty. But Jackson is obstinate, 
 headstrong, and fond of fight. I fear matters must come 
 to an open rupture. If so, this Union is gone I ' Then 
 pausing for near a minute, raising his finger in that emphatic 
 manner so peculiar to his action as a speaker, and seerfiing. 
 as it were, to breathe more freely, he continued: " There is 
 one man, and one man only, who can save this Union — that 
 man is Henry Clay. I know he has the power. I believe 
 he will be found to have the patriotism and firmness equal 
 to the occasion.' "' 
 
 Mr. Randolph was not mistaken. Mr. Clay proved to 
 have alike the "• power," '• the patriotism " and '• the firm- 
 ness." At this juncture he once more evinced how great 
 and unselfish was his patriotism. In the language of one 
 who was not a political friend, " With parental fondness he 
 cherished his American system; with unyielding pertinacity 
 contended for it to the last extremity; but, when it became 
 a question between that and the integrity of the Union; he 
 did not hesitate; like Abraham, he was readv to sacrifice 
 his own offspring on the altar of his country, and to see the 
 
304 THE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 fond idols he had cherished perish, one by one, before his 
 Hngering eyes." 
 
 He introduced a bill which received the name of the 
 Compromise Tariti' Bill. From it, for the sake of his coun- 
 try's peace, he excluded most of those features which were 
 odious to the South, however fondly they had been cherished 
 by himself. His sacrifice was not unavailing. Thus, once 
 more, devotion to country triumphed over the dangers of 
 partisanship. 
 
 Mr. Clay was now growing old, and resigned his seat in 
 the Senate, for his health was rapidly failing. But the 
 alarum of internal dissension was again sounded, and the 
 worn and dying veteran could not rest in peace at Ashland. 
 Once more he buckled on his armor and rushed to the front. 
 This time it was to effect the great " Compromise of 1850." 
 The vigor and enthusiasm of youth no longer attend him. 
 The hopes and buoyancy of other days have fled. He goes 
 not to that Senate now in the strength and pride of 1806. 
 He goes wrapped in bandages, racked with pain, lifted like 
 an infant, so frail that even the prairie's breeze threatens to 
 blow his life away. 
 
 A scene, that American Senate chamber — clothed in no 
 gorgeous draper}', shrouded in no superstitious awe or 
 ancient reverence for hereditary power; but to a reflecting 
 American mind more full of interest, of dignity, and of 
 grandeur than any spot on this broad earth not made holy 
 by religion's consecrating seal. See him as he enters there 
 tremblingl}', but hopefully, upon the last, most momentous, 
 perhaps most doubtful conflict of his life. Many a gay 
 tournament has been more dazzling to the eye of fancy, 
 more gorgeous and imposing in the display of jewels and 
 cloth of gold, in the sound of heralds' trumpets, in the grand 
 
HENRY CLAY. 305 
 
 arra}' of princely beauty and of royal pride. Many a battle- 
 field has trembled beneath a more ostentatious parade 
 of human power, and its conquerors have been crowned with 
 laurels, honored with triumphs, and " apotheosized " amid 
 the demigods of history; but to the thoughtful, hopeful, 
 philanthropic student of the annals of his race, never was 
 there a conflict in which such dangers were threatened, such 
 hopes imperiled, or the hero of which deserved a warmer 
 gratitude, a nobler triumph, or a prouder monument. 
 
 Generals are tried by examining the campaigns they have 
 lost' or won, and statesmen by viewing the transactions in 
 which they have been engaged. Hamilton would have been 
 unknown to us had there been no Constitution to be created ; 
 as Brutus would have died in obscurity had there been no 
 Csesar to be slain. So, when histor}' shall relate the strug- 
 gles which preceded and the dangers which were averted 
 by the Missouri compromise, the tariff compromise of 1832, 
 and the adjustment of 1850, the same pages will record 
 the genius, the eloquence, and the patriotism of Henry 
 Clay. 
 
 Like the pine, which sometimes springs up amid the rocks 
 on the mountain side, with scarcely a crevice in which to fix 
 its. roots, or soil to nourish them, but which, nevertheless, 
 overtops all the trees of the surrounding forest, Henry Clay, 
 by his own inherent self-sustaining energy 'and genius, rose 
 to an altitude of fame almost unequaled in the age in which 
 he lived. He- was born in the wilds of a new empire, with- 
 out patronage or wealth; At an age when our 3-oung men 
 are usually advanced to the higher schools of learning, he 
 turned his steps to the AVest, provided only with the rudi- 
 ments of an English education, and amid the rude collisions 
 of a border-life, matured a character whose highest exhibi- 
 
306 THE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 tiohs were destined to mark eras in his country's history. 
 Beginning on the frontiers of American civilization, the 
 orphan boy, supported only by the consciousness of his own 
 powers, and by the confidence of the people, surmounted 
 all the barriers of adverse fortune, and won a glorious name 
 in the annals of his country. Let the generous youth, fired 
 with honorable ambition, remember that the American sys- 
 tem of government offers on every hand bounties to merit. 
 If, like Clay, orphanage, obscurity, poverty, shall oppress 
 him; yet if, like Clay, he feels the Promethean spark within, 
 let him remember that his country, like a generous mother, 
 extends her arms to welcome and to cherish every one of 
 her children whose genius and worth may promote her pros- 
 perity or increase her renown. 
 
 To convey a clear idea of Mr. Clay's eloquence is impos- 
 sible. Like that of Chatham and Patrick Henry, it must 
 li\'e onl}' in tradition. In his published speeches the reader 
 searches in ^■ain for the spell which bound his hearers. Like 
 that of every great orator, it was not words alone; it was 
 the fullness of the man — his gestures, his matchless voice, 
 his dilating form, his attitudes, and the glances of his 
 enkindled eye. These are things which are beyond the 
 power of the reporter; and yet these are the things in which 
 reposed the secret of his power. The eloquence of Webster 
 was the majestic, roar of a strong and stead}- blast pealing 
 through the forest ; but that of Clay was the tone of a god- 
 like instrument, sometimes visited by an angel touch, and 
 swept anon by all the fury of the raging elements. He 
 never, perhaps, in any parliamentary effort, came up to the 
 mark of Webster's repl_y to Hayne, but on all ordinary 
 occasions there could be no comparison. While Webster 
 was almost uniformly dull, Clay was always animated and 
 
HENRT CLAY. 307 
 
 interesting. His sensibilities were keen and powerful, easil}' 
 mo^•ed, and impetuous as an ocean storm. 
 
 Webster, on the other hand was, on ordinary occasions, 
 cold and phlegmatic. And yet Clay to produce an effect 
 never descended to vulgarity. He was always above dema- 
 gogism and the low tricks of the politician. He despised 
 such methods to obtain success, although the most ambiti- 
 ous of men. He was a proud-spirited, high-toned gentle- 
 man, and his oratory never revealed him in any other light. 
 
 It has been the custom of his biographers to represent 
 him as an "orator born," and knowing all things by intui- 
 tion. Every man who is a success in a calling has a strong 
 predilection for that calling, and Mr. Clay's natural bias was 
 in favor of public speaking. But he also brought into 
 requisition every element of his being to the one aim. He 
 was a tireless student, and not until failing health and 
 advancing age bore heavily upon him did he forego his habit 
 of self-culture. He studied eloquence and style even in 
 ordinar}' conversation, and courted the society of persons 
 noted for grace of manner and power of expression, that he 
 might educate himself in this art. The fascination of his 
 manner and conversation was almost equal to that of his 
 eloquence. 
 
 Mr. Clay was ever willing to confess his industry, and in 
 his talks to 3'oung men freely told them of his rising at early 
 dawn, and burning the candle until midnight in his search 
 aft^r knowledge. In an oration before the Ballston school, 
 speaking of his own attainments as a speaker, he said : 
 
 " I owe my success in life to one single fact, viz. : that at 
 the age of twenty-seven I commenced, and continued for 
 years, the process of dail}' reading and speaking upon the 
 contents of some historical or scientific book. These off- 
 
308 TEE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 hand efforts were made sometimes in a corn-tield, at others 
 in the forest, and not unfrequently in some distant barn, witli 
 the horse and ox for my auditors. It is to this early prac- 
 tice of the great art of all arts that I am indebted for the 
 primary and leading impulses that stimulated me forward, 
 and have shaped and molded my entire subsequent destin}'. 
 Improve, then, young gentlemen, the superior advantages 
 you here enjo}'. Let not a da}' pass without exercising j^our 
 powers of speech. There is no power like that of oratory. 
 Caesar controlled men b)' exciting their fears; Cicero by 
 captivating their affections and swa}'ing their passions. The 
 influence of the one perished with its author; that of the 
 other continues to this da}'." 
 
 Mr. Cla}' had two aims in life: To master his profession 
 and stand at the head of the Lexington bar ; the other, after 
 he had become a statesman, was to be President of the 
 United States. The first he achieved; the last he never 
 reached. He labored as only the man of conscientious 
 ambition can labor, to do his whole duty. Therefore, in 
 seasons of great national peril, his de^'otion to country was; 
 so much greater than to self that he forgot ambition in seek- 
 ing the country's good. On one occasion, acting under its 
 influence, he said to Mr. Grundy, " Tell General Jackson 
 that if he will sign that bill [the Land bill], I will pledge 
 m}'self to retire from Congress, and never enter public life 
 a'rainy Such self immolating political purity demands 
 reverence. My country., viy country., seems to have been 
 the constant subject of his thoughts and wishes. This 
 attribute gave to his commanding eloquence its invincible 
 power, and was the solid foundation on which he reared the 
 temple of his immortal fame. 
 
 Mr. Clay died in the seventy-sixth year of his age, June 
 
HENRY CLAY. 309 
 
 29, 1852. When Kentucky proposed the vain memorial of 
 a statue, Thomas F. Marshall, one of her most gifted sons, 
 gave utterance to the lollowing lofty tribute : . 
 
 " The friends of Mr. Clay meditate the construction of a 
 monument, to mark the spot where repose the remains of 
 that frail tenement which once held his fiery soul. It will 
 be honorable to them, and will form a graceful ornament to 
 the green woods which surround the city of which he had 
 himself been so long the living ornament; but it will be use- 
 less to him or his fame. He trustee! neither himself nor his 
 fame to mechanical hands or perishable materials. '■Exegil 
 momnnentum pere?ijiius cere.'' They may lay their pedestals 
 of granite; they may rear their polished columns till they 
 pierce and flout the skies; the}' may cover their marble 
 pillars all over with the blazonry of his deeds, the trophies 
 of his triumphant genius, and surmount them with images 
 of his form wrought by the cunningest hands; it matters not 
 — he is not there. The prisoned eagle has burst the bars, 
 and soared away from strife, and conflict, and calumny. He 
 is not dead — he lives. I mean not the life eternal in yon 
 other world of which religion teaches; but here on earth he 
 lives the life which men call fame, that life the hope of 
 which forms the solace of high ambition, which cheers and 
 sustains the brave and wise and good, the champions of truth 
 and human-kind, through all their labors — that life is his 
 be}'ond all chance or change, growing, expansive, quench- 
 less as time and human memory. He needs no statue — he 
 desired none. It was the image of his soul he wished to 
 perpetuate, and he has stamped it in himself in lines of flame 
 upon the souls of his countrymen. Not all the marbles of 
 Carrara, fashioned by the chisel of Angelo into the mimicry 
 of breathing life, could convey to the senses a likeness so 
 
310 THE GENIUS OF INDUS j\.i' 
 
 perfect of himself as that which he has left upon the minds 
 of men. He carved his own statue, he built his own monu- 
 ment. In youth he laid the base, broad as his whole country, 
 that it might well sustain the mighty structure he had 
 designed. He labored heroically through life on the colos- 
 sal shaft. In 1850, the last year of the first half of the nine- 
 teenth century, he prepared the healing measures which bear 
 his name, as the capital, well proportioned and in perfect 
 keeping with the now finished column, crowned his work, 
 saw that it was good and durable, sprang to its lofty and 
 commanding summit, and, gazing from that lone height upon 
 a horizon which embraced all coming time, with eternity for 
 his background, and the ej'es of the whole world riveted upon 
 his solitary figure, consented there and thus to die," 
 
s" -<iAo 
 
 
'Gay. 
 
 -^|cplJL7^H^.]|^4- 
 
 Learning by study must be won, 
 'Twas ne'er entailed from sire to son. 
 
 Youth it instructs, old age delights, 
 
 Adorns prosperity, and when 
 Of adverse fate we feel the blights, 
 
 'Twill comfort us and solace then. 
 
 — Watson. 
 
 Is there one whom difficulties dishearten — who bends to the storm' He 
 ill do little. Is there one who -«?/ conquer? That kind of man never fails. 
 -yoliii Hunter. 
 
 I freely told you all the wealth I had ran in my veins. — Shakspeare. 
 
 He that has light within his own clear breast 
 May sit in the center, and enjoy bright day. 
 
 —Milton. 
 
F ever there is a time when one needs an old head 
 on his shoulders it is when he stands on the thres- 
 hold of manhood. If ever he needs the experience 
 of an octogenarian, it is in the years around twenty-one. 
 Here he is, with the wide world before him, a business to 
 choose, a standard to erect, foundations to lay, and health 
 to care for. A step in the wrong direction may strand him 
 forever. A few years, now squandered away in riotous 
 living, may leave sorry space for amendment. The' 
 customary solace of friends about the " wild oats and set- 
 tling down by-and-by,'' can only serve in countenancing 
 one's profiigac}', and hurrying him on the road to ruin. 
 Don't take 3'our sportive days at such distance from }Our 
 destiny. Wait until you have made the trip. They will 
 be better enjoyed when you have earned a title to them b}' 
 protracted and honest toil. John Ruskin savs: " In general 
 I have no patience with people who talk about ' the thought- 
 lessness of youth' indulgently; I had infinitely rather hear 
 of thoughtless old age and the indulgence due to that. 
 When a man has done his work, and nothing can any way 
 be materially altered in his fate, let him forget his toil, and 
 
314 TUE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 jest with his fate, if he will ; but what excuse can you find 
 for willfulness of thought at the very time when every crisis 
 of fortune hangs on your decisions? A youth thouo-htless, 
 when all the happiness of his home forever depends on the 
 chances or the passions of an hour! A youth thoughtless, 
 when the career of all his days depends on the opportunity 
 of the moment ! A }-outh thoughtless, when his e\-ery action 
 is a foundation-stone of future conduct, and every imagi- 
 nation a fountain of life or death! Be thoughtless m a7iy 
 after 3-ears rather than now; though, indeed, there is only 
 one place where a man may be nobly thoughtless — his 
 death-bed. Nothing should ever be left to be done there." 
 
 We have known instances wherein men have made a little 
 profitable excitement b}' attention to superfcial details. 
 Doctors have sometimes driven themselves into notoriety 
 with a pair of fast horses. Merchants, by their oozy, gloz- 
 ing words, have succeeded in selling large bills of goods. 
 Lawyers have laughed juries into subjection with their wit- 
 ticisms. Orators have melted audiences down by the trill 
 of an O or the rolling of an R. And yet- one of two things 
 is true: Either the excitement died down like fire made 
 from pine shavings, or else there were other qualifications 
 behind, that gave substance to the success. 
 
 There must be something more than tinsel to clothe the 
 man in who would secrete power in his outfit. Business 
 calls for brains more than ever before. Clerkships nowadays 
 to be worth anything must be filled by men of gift and 
 staunch accomplishments. Otherwise they are nominal, en- 
 dowing their owners with a legacy of poverty. There is 
 something more needed than to be able to measure off ten 
 yards of calico, light the chandeliers, and dangle the heels 
 over the counter. The man who takes into his concep- 
 
CULTURE. 315 
 
 tions the mere contents of a modern dry goods store — to 
 say nothing of furnishing and managing it — is master not 
 only of a knowledge of merchandise; he is an adept in 
 nomenclature, manufacture, commercial industries, transpor- 
 tation, and the geography of the world. And although all 
 this knowledge may not be needed of him, yet to possess it 
 indicates that he is somewhat conscious of such a thing as 
 progress, and that he proposes to be progressive, too. 
 
 The same may be said of other hand-labor. Fifty years 
 ago men were paid for strength of muscle. That was a 
 gala-da}' for the giants. Now, muscle is at a discount, 
 while skilled intellect alid dexterous fingers are in demand. 
 Engines and machines for field and shop, and for all sorts of 
 business, glut the market. Thus is toil shortened and sur- 
 plus hurnan flesh discharged. The man who does not now 
 bring mechanical genius to his assistance must suffer loss. 
 No man can expect with a mortar and pestle to make head- 
 wa}' against a modern flouring mill. Thought is the only 
 thing that can win, and every pursuit is calling for men of 
 mind. 
 
 There- is something practical, as well as something that 
 charms, about culture. " It is not a small thing," says 
 Beecher, "for a man to be able to make his hands light by 
 ■supplementing them with his head. The advantage which 
 intelligence gives a man is very great. It often increases 
 one's mere physical ability full one half. Active thought, or 
 quickness in the use of the mind, is very important in teaching 
 us how to use our hands rightly in every possible relation 
 and situation in life. The use of the head abridges the labor 
 of the hands. There is no drudgery, there is no mechanical 
 routine, there is no minuteness of fiinction, that is not 
 advantaged by education. If a man has nothing to do but 
 
316 THE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 to turn a grindstone, he had better be educated; if a man 
 has nothing to do but to stick pins on a paper, he had better 
 be educated; if he has to sweep the streets, he had better be 
 educated. It makes no difference what you do, you will do 
 it better if you are educated. An intelligent man knows 
 how to bring knowledge to bear upon whatever he has to 
 do. It is a mistake to suppose that a stupid man makes a 
 better laborer than one who is intelligent. If I wanted a 
 man to drain iny farm, or merely to throw the dirt out from 
 a ditch, I would not get a stupid drudge if I could help it. 
 In tiines when armies have to pass through great hardships, 
 it is the stupid soldiers that break dt)wn quickest, while the 
 men of intelligence, who have mental resources, hold out 
 longest. It is a common saying that blood will always tell 
 in horses; I know that intelligence will tell in men." 
 
 The "Captains of Industry," in every mine and factory 
 are the intelligent workmen. Intelligence makes their 
 touch- more sensitive, and gives greater mobility to their 
 hands. There is a weaving-room in Massachusetts filled 
 with girls above the average in character and intelligence, 
 and there is one girl among them who has been highly 
 educated. Though length of arm and strength of muscle 
 are advantages in weaving, and though this girl is short and 
 small, she always weaves the greatest number of pieces in 
 the room, and consequently draws the largest pay at the 
 end of each month. 
 
 The intelligent English travelers find nothing in the 
 United States that excites their wonder and admiration so 
 much as the manufacturing towns of New England. That 
 factory girls should play on the piano and sustain a credita- 
 ble magazine by their own contributions ; that their residences 
 should be clean, commodious, and elegant; that factory-men 
 
CULTURE. 317 
 
 should be intelligent gentlemen, well-read in literature, and 
 totally unacquainted with beer and its inspirations, have 
 been for many years the crowning marvels of America to 
 all travelers of culture and observation. Franklin, Sherman, 
 and many of our brightest lights, emerged from the work- 
 shops, and have enriched the world through the genius of 
 their learning as fully as the profoundest collegian of any 
 age. An obscure life is sometimes unavoidable, but igno- 
 rance is a voluntary misfortune, if not a crime. " A wise 
 man," says Seneca, "is provided for occurrences of any 
 kind: the good he manages, the bad he vanquishes; in pros- 
 perity he betrays no presumption, and in adversity he feels, 
 no despondency." 
 
 A scientific man can dig a better post-hole than a dunce,, 
 and an intelligent man will make a better gardener than one 
 who never read a book. It is said that- in the earl}^ days of 
 San Francisco the most popular waiter at one of the hotels 
 was an ex-Congressman; not because he had been a Con- 
 gressman, for it was not then known, but because he knew 
 men, could detect wants, and possessed discretion. The 
 country over, the hired hand that is kept the whole year 
 round, at good wages, is the one that reads the newspapers, 
 dresses up, and goes to church. Knowledge is not the 
 monopoly of the professions nor the privilege of wealth; it 
 is the prerogative of the day-laborer and the mechanic; it is: 
 the inheritance of every man if he will go up and possess 
 the land. ■ The most exacting trade furnishes enough leisure 
 five minutes in a year to permit 3'ou to become conversant 
 with the history of the United States. Put in the parings 
 of each day, the mere rinds of it, for ten years, and 3'ou will 
 have become a scholar. 
 
 These crevices of time, filled with rapid reading, to be 
 
318 THE GENIUS OF INDUSTRT. 
 
 meditated on while at work, will make one proficient in lit- 
 erature, and afford ample time for the current news. After 
 a tew years you will concede that brain pays a journeyman 
 as well as a professor. Beside the increased ability to dis- 
 patch work and the additional demand it creates for your 
 services, it aftords dignity of character, and a happiness that 
 is superior to every misfortune. Dr. INIason Good translated 
 Lucretius while riding in his carriage in the streets of Lon- 
 don, going his rounds among his patients. ' Dr. Darwin 
 composed nearly all his works in the same wa}-, writing 
 down his thoughts on little scraps of paper which he carried 
 about with him for the purpose. Hale wrote his " Contem- 
 plations " while traveling on a circuit. Dr. Burne}' learned 
 French and Italian while traveling on horseback from one 
 music pupil to another. Kirke White learned Greek while 
 walking to and from a lawj'er's office. Daguesseau, one 
 of the great Chancellors of France, wrote a bulky volume 
 during the moments he waited for dinner. Madame de 
 Genlis composed several of her charming volumes while 
 waiting for the Princess to whom she gave her daily lessons, 
 and Jeremy Bentham considered it a calamity to lose one 
 moment of time. 
 
 That is a solemn admonition on the dial at All Souls, 
 Oxford, England: '■'■ Pertiitit et inipufanfur'''' — the hours 
 perish and are laid to our charge. Melancthon noted down 
 the time lost b}' him, that it might reanimate his energies. 
 An Italian scholar put over his door an inscription intimat- 
 ing that whoever remained there should join in his labors. 
 " We are afraid," said some visitors to Baxter, " that we 
 break in upon your time." " To be sure you do," replied 
 the sturdy divine. Elihu Burritt attributed his first success 
 in self-improvement, not to genius, which he disclaimed, but 
 
CULTURE. 319 
 
 to the employment of his odd moments. While working 
 and earning his living as a blacksmith he mastered some 
 eighteen ancient and modern languages and twenty-two 
 European dialects. " Those who have been acquainted 
 with my character fron:i my youth up," said a self-made 
 man, " will give me credit for sincerity when I say that it 
 never entered into my head to blazon forth any acquisition 
 of my own. * * * All that I have accomplished, or expect 
 or hope to accomplish, has been or will be by that plodding, 
 patient, persevering process of accretion which builds the 
 ant-heap — particle by particle, thought by thought, fact by 
 fact. And if ever I was actuated by ambition, its highest 
 and warmest aspiration reached no further than the hope to 
 set before the young men of my country an example in 
 employing those invaluable fragments of time called ' odd 
 moments.' " 
 
 Do }'ou say you are not able to work this thing out by 
 yourself .'' — that you must attend lectures and enter classes .-^ 
 This is all very nice if it can be done, but if not, what then.^ 
 Shall you shrivel up and blow away because there is no 
 university in your community.'' What are books, and men, 
 and nature for, if not to aid yon.'' Can you go a mile into 
 the world without running across a legion of instructors.'* 
 
 "Think you, 'mid all tjiis mighty sum 
 Of things forever speaking, 
 That nothing of itself will come, 
 But we must still be seeking? " 
 
 If 3'ou should sit, to-day, before a professor, could he teach 
 you more valuable things than you can learn, with open eyes 
 and ears, before business or in the midst of society and the 
 churches.'' 
 
 Rittenhouse, the astronomer, first calculated eclipses on 
 
320 THE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 his plow-handle. Wilkie, the artist, used a burned stick and. 
 the barn door in lieu of pencil and canvas. Watt made his 
 first model of a condensing steam engine out of an old 
 syringe. A bit of pasteboard enabled Newton to unfold the 
 composition of light and the- origin of colors. Giffbrd worked 
 his first problem in mathematics, when a cobbler's appren- 
 tice, on scraps of leather which he beat smooth for the pur- 
 pose. Franklin drew the lightning from the clouds with a 
 key fastened to a kite-string; and a distinguished Eng- 
 lish scholar, while yet a gardener's boy, being asked how he 
 had contrived to read " Newton's Principia " in Latin, 
 replied: " One needs only to know the letters of the alpha- 
 bet in order to learn every thing else he wishes." ■ 
 
 If the broad halls of opportunity are closed to you, they 
 may not be closed forever. If you would work your way 
 into the society of the learned, " after the shop is closed, 
 climb a lamp-post, holding on with one hand and reading 
 with the other." If you can not stand side by side with 
 Governor Bishop and Secretar}' Schurz, like them you can 
 at any rate take the strokes of the world courageously in 
 the days of your humiliation. Many a slave, before the war, 
 learned his letters, and put them together into syllables and 
 words, simply from overhearing the recitations of his mas- 
 ter's children. And man}' an American has learned to read 
 by studying the signs that were painted on the fences he 
 was passing on his way to town. Indeed, the men who' 
 formed and fashioned our Western civilization were neither 
 blessed with skillful guides nor cursed with worn-out routes. 
 It has been theirs to blaze the forest as they went. 
 
 A thorough knowledge of 3-our business, and a general 
 knowledge of the world, will oftener bring success than an 
 inheritance. Chesterfield was not a man of astounding ' 
 
CULTURE. 32t 
 
 parts, yet his magnificent culture made him one of the great- 
 est men of his day. lie said of one of his speeches, dehv- 
 ered before the Lords, and with whicli tlie}' were highly 
 pleased, that he knew nothing of the matter, for it was 
 scientific. It turned out that the Lords did not understand 
 it either, but he assumed to know so much, and addressed 
 them as if they knew all about it, that they declared they 
 thoroughly understood the case from his statement. His 
 knowledge of men, and of their prevailing shallowness, 
 together with his own smattering of science, enabled him to 
 form sentences that sounded as though they came from a 
 master of the subject. The salesman at Claflin's who tells 
 customers all about how the stripes are put into silks, and 
 describes the silkworms and cocoons, sells more silk than 
 any other clerk in America. 
 
 To possess knowledge is a general ambition with men. 
 But by the time one reaches forty his resolution is all scat- 
 tered to the winds, 
 
 "And, like an insubstantial pageant, faded, 
 Leaves not a wrack behind." 
 
 "Time! time!" it is cried; "we have not time." It is not 
 time that is needed. Every man has time enough, no 
 matter how great a toiler he may be. It is a right royal 
 determination that is wanting — a spirit like Elihu Burritt's, 
 that prompts him to work like a horse at his trade, and like 
 Demosthenes at his studies. There are many men who 
 would perform vast works " if " there were no obstacles in 
 the way. Almost every man tells his friends what he could 
 have attained to "if" the occasion had been granted him. 
 Every boy can see the dazzling pinnacle, and could reach it 
 " if" he only had a chance. Chances are not equal to all, 
 
322 THE OENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 it is true, but he who stumbles over an ''if" will never find 
 a chance. 
 
 You must cover the distance between 3'ou and your more 
 fortunate rival by such heroic effort as he is not likely to 
 put forth, so as never to let him know there was ever an 
 "if" in the way. So rapid are the revolutions of fortune's 
 wheel, that circumstances are of no abiding value. The 
 most favorable surroundings of to-day may be utterly 
 changed to-morrow, leaving their victim stripped. Ralston 
 revels in millions this morning, his children the envy of San 
 Francisco; this evening, a suicide, he floats on the water, . 
 and they are without support. Byron, born of a defaulting, 
 drunken father and vicious mother, for a brief period is the 
 heir of poverty; but the index turns, and he inherits his 
 uncle's title and vast estates. Tenterden is forced to leave 
 his place in the cathedral choir for lack of ability; after many 
 other failures, however, he puts his shoulder to the wheel, 
 pushes out, and dies a Lord Chancellor. 
 
 There is no permanent hope for a man except as it starts 
 from within. The scale of circumstance may go up or down, 
 to elevate or to sink, but that which takes root and rise 
 within the soil of one's own nature may be reckoned upon 
 as measurably secure. Archimedes said if he could find a 
 place for his fulcrum he could upset the world. Within the 
 sphere of morals such a leverage can be found. It is in the 
 consciousness of increasing capacities, which we hold as the 
 gift of God. Whether one will proceed, then, with the 
 Archimedean problem, on its moral merits, is left to his own 
 volition. For, in no thing is he so much the arbiter of his 
 fortune as in attaining unto the measure of perfect manhood. 
 
 If you have a preference for literature, as a means of 
 getting on, you do not need many books. Some men gorge 
 
CULTURE. 323 
 
 upon Rollin and Gibbon, Lingard and Froude, Mosheim, 
 Mommsen, Macaulay and Motley, until their minds become 
 more voluminous in their contents than luminous in exercise. 
 They suppose if they can stow away a cart-load of chapters 
 and paragraphs they will become wise. This may do for a 
 man of the stature of Carlyle or Hamilton. They could 
 walk erect, and turn a hand-spring under the pressure of 
 forty thousand volumes, but on a common brain it is easy 
 to heap a burden that will make one stagger worse than a 
 ten-year-old boy beneath the pack of a Hungarian peddler. 
 It is not the quantity of books one reads, nor the large 
 amount of information, drawn from every source, that helps; 
 it is first the quality, and next the ability to apply to practi- 
 cal use. Some men are more learned from reading one 
 book than others are after reading a hundred. Indeed, as 
 Disraeli says, "the man of one book is dangerous." One 
 need have great book-capacity to compete with some. Na- 
 poleon read books as he conquered foes, before breakfast. 
 Charles James Fox read with lightning-like rapidity, remem- 
 bering every good sentence in an entire volume. All that 
 Sir William Hamilton pretended to do was " to rip the 
 bowels out of a book." Carlyle sucked the marrow from 
 an encyclopedia in two hours. 
 
 Of all the impotencies, the impotency of reading is the 
 most worthless and despicable. One we know wades 
 through the pages like a mad bull in a stream, closes the 
 book with a pompous dash, and turns to you with an air of 
 triumph as though he had conquered the Bodleian Librar}'. 
 "Another volume swallowed," cries he; and so it is, only 
 it lies on the brain as undigested as would a grindstone if 
 introduced into the stomach. He is as full as a boa afler 
 gorging an ox, and as comatose ; George III after the 
 
32i THE GEyiUS OF INDL\STRY. 
 
 disposal of a dozen dumplings could not be more leaden 
 than he. 
 
 Libraries are magnetic. Like the fabulous lodestone 
 rock, which, with the wind's speed, drew the fated ship to 
 itself, only to dash it to pieces in the contact, so do vast 
 shelves of books draw men in. You can not read all the 
 books published. Don't try it. Culture does not consist in 
 such omnivorous folly. Take up standard authors, leaving 
 new ones to those who have time to read and experience to 
 test them. You will tind that even the authorities are not 
 equal to themselves, page by page. It seems to be a neces- 
 sity that they should not be. Too much sweet surfeits. 
 Select from them what you need and is good, file it awa}', 
 and work it over into rib-bones for 3our own structure, or 
 sink it into the blood as you do iron. Read books like Rob- 
 ertson, who waded into a library for the same purpose one 
 takes a bath, that he might be purified and invigorated. 
 
 Bacon said, " Some books are to be tasted, others swal- 
 lowed, and some few to be chewed and digested." Seeing 
 that if the printed pages in our libraries, and the newspaper 
 and magazine editions for one year were stretched out, they 
 would " paper " the globe itself, how careful ought we to 
 be in selecting, so that we can utilize everything in our 
 calling. When you find a really valuable book, then, such 
 as Shakspeare, Macaulay's Essays, Gibbon, or the Iliad, be 
 like Hackett, " who fastened his eyes on a book as if it were 
 a will making him heir to a million." 
 
 What share have the philosophers and sentimentalists 
 with the apostles.'' One hardly dare shake hands with 
 Emerson and say, " Prophet! " especially while he is under 
 the raking fire of Joseph Cook. And yet we all feel that 
 there is a class of writers from whom we are making up a 
 
CULTURE. 325 
 
 life we shall some day hate to lose. We can find no sensi- 
 ble man who does not recommend them. One time when I 
 thought of studying theology I picked up " Shedd's Homi- 
 letics " and read a chapter on intellectual culture. He tells 
 ministers to lay a basis for eternity by constantly studying 
 Homer, Shakspeare, and Plato. It does not appear that we 
 go to these for absolute revelations. Width of thought, 
 warmth of heart, and unbounded humanity are the proper- 
 ties we carry away. All their peccadilloes seem to sieve 
 out. Or does the good blood in one take up nothing but 
 the necessary elements.' We are afraid of the analogy, 
 and remark that it is not in the filth of a word so much as 
 in the passion of a sentiment that we may look for breakers. 
 One can pick words enough out of Shakspeare to make a 
 pocket dictionary, any one of which we should blush to put 
 on these pages. And yet we all read over them without 
 any other feeling than that of repulsion, while Byron and 
 Rousseau, whose indecent words are very rare indeed, wile 
 3-00 on with their hot sentiment to a point that disgraces, 
 and down goes the book in alarm. 
 
 Don't cast a book aside simply because some one sees a 
 bugbear in the term " Fiction." What is there that is not 
 in some sense fictitious.'' Would you discard Dickens, 
 Scott, Holmes, Holland, Eggleston, McDonald, Eliot, Stowe, 
 and " Schoenberg-Cotta," to say nothing of our Lord's 
 parables? There is but one moral rule for reading. Read 
 every thing that makes 3'ou better and nothing that makes 
 you worse, or leaves you where you were. Don't cast a 
 book aside because it opposes your views. Be a man. 
 Face it. Interrogate it. Let it interrogate 3-ou. Perchance 
 it is you who are wrong. Perhaps it. Antagonize. Let 
 it provoke you to thought. Often this is the best and 
 
326 THE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 quickest wa}- to start the torpid brain and arrive at a well- 
 defined angle of truth. And in the name of literature and 
 common sense, have nothing to do with expurgated editions. 
 If your modesty is such that you can not read a book as 
 originally written, leave it alone. What are books for unless 
 to teach us of men -and their histories — of the world and its 
 contents just as it is? Don't be prudish on this point, 
 allowing some wiseacre to go in your ad\ance, culling and 
 scraping. Take counsel of good friends as to the propriety 
 of choosing such and such authors, and so protect 3'ourself. 
 Chatterton used to say that " men had arms long enough 
 to reach anything if they chose to be at the trouble." When 
 Sir Francis Horner was giving his rules lor the cultivation 
 of the mind, he placed great stress upon the habit of con- 
 tinuous application to one subject, for the sake of mastering 
 it thoroughly. He confined himself to a few books and 
 resisted with great firmness the habit of " desultory read- 
 ing."' We are all the time seeking short cuts to knowledge. 
 We have French in twelve lessons; a sophomore expects to 
 harangue a Greek mob in his second term; and after nine 
 months at astronomy we have forgotten more than Ferguson 
 knew after he had slept on the highlands in his sheep-skin 
 for ten ^ears. As soon as we have heard a few lectures in 
 chemistry, taken laughing gas, witnessed the dissection of a 
 human bod}-, walked up and down thi-ough a library, stam- 
 mered through a dozen Greek and Latin works, fingered a 
 few specimen " rocks," botanized a dozen plants, and taught 
 a class or two in mathematics during the professor's absence, 
 we stretch out, and swell, and pass out into the world, 
 having traversed, as we suppose, the whole curriculum of 
 knowledge. In this way we get a smattering of everything, 
 
CULTURE. 327 
 
 establishing the paradox that what is better than nothing is 
 good for nothing. 
 
 The general who divides a thousand men into ten differ- 
 ent advancing columns only scatters them on the field to 
 find defeat; whereas, if he concentrates them into one solid 
 wedge and drives them into the enemy's center, he bursts it 
 open and wins the day. Ignatius Loyola said: " He who 
 does well one work at a time does more than all." "I 
 resolved," said Lord St. Leonards, " when beginning to 
 read law, to make every thing I acquired perfectly m}* own, 
 and never to go to a second thing until I had entirely 
 accomplished the first. Many of my competitors read more 
 in a day than I read in a week; but at the end of twelve 
 months my knowledge was as fresh as on the day it was 
 acquired, while theirs had glided away from recollection." 
 There is a point at which the mind's saturating power 
 reaches a maximum, and to attempt to go be3'ond this is 
 useless. Abernethy used to compare the mind to a bucket 
 that would hold just so much, and if you put anything more 
 in it had the effect of pushing something else out. 
 
 The facility with which one accomplishes a work is not 
 always an index to his ultimate success. In many cases 
 unusual facility becomes a most detrimental element. John 
 Randolph was one of the most brilliant speakers in all the 
 galaxy of orators, but, being an extreme partisan, his 
 speeches were surfeited with sarcasm and personal denuncia- 
 tion, which dazzled at the time and gained a wonderful 
 passing fame, but there were no " constitutional " efforts, 
 and another generation is almost forgetting his splendid 
 powers. 
 
 Benjamin Constant was one of the most gifted of intel- 
 lectual Frenchmen, but blase at twenty. His life was a 
 
32S THE GENIUS OF INDUSTIIY. 
 
 prolonged wail instead of a harvest oi results. He had the 
 fluency of Chief Justice Marshall in conversation, and his 
 facile pen discussed religion, history, politics and science 
 without effort, and with inconceivable rapidity. He cher- 
 ished the ambition of writing books " which the world 
 would not willingly let die." But he accomplished his 
 transcendental themes with such ease that he came to 
 despise all labor and eventually mocked all virtue. He 
 frequented the gaming-tables while preparing his work on 
 religion, and carried on a disreputable intrigue while writing 
 his " Adolphe." He effected much, but early victory with- 
 out struggle dissipated a genius as great as Voltaire's, and 
 sent him to his grave over an airy pathway of brilliant 
 emptiness, his last years being useless and miserable. 
 Coleridge greatly resembled the inconstant Frenchman in 
 that he was unusually gifted, but barren of results. From 
 the buddings of his early genius his friends expected a gen- 
 erous career, but after having projected some fort}' thousand 
 treatises he died, leaving the world heir to a mass of 
 fragments. 
 
 Charles James Fox used to say he had more hope for the 
 man who failed and then went on in spite of his failure, than 
 from the buoyant career of the successful. " It is all ver}' 
 well," said he, " to tell me that a young man has distin- 
 guished himself by a brilliant first speech. He ma}' go on, or 
 he may be satisfied with his first triumph; but show me a 
 young man who has not succeeded at first and nevertheless 
 has gone on, and I will back that young man to do better 
 than the most of those who have succeeded at the first 
 trial." One talented and promising member of the English 
 Parliament, whose maiden speech was an astonishingly bril- 
 
CULTURE. 329 
 
 liant effort, never made a second ; and he is known to history 
 as " Single-speech Hamilton." 
 
 A man of true metal, like John Philpot Curran, is ener- 
 gized by failure, and it often happens to such a man that he 
 discovers what ivill do by finding out what will not do. 
 Torricelli, like the man who '' bucks " against the " tiger " 
 successfully, redoubled his energies after each failure, and in 
 the end was always conqueror. Insurance companies get 
 new business by announcing their losses ; and medical science 
 will never advance rapidly until her professional men have 
 the courage to publish their failures. Watt, the engineer, 
 said the thing most wanted in mechanics was a history of 
 failures. Sir Humphrey Davy, on examining a dexterously 
 manipulated experiment, thanked God that he was not a 
 dexterous manipulator; "for the most important of my 
 discoveries," said he, " have been suggested to me by 
 failures." "Rossini," said Beethoven, ''had in him the 
 stuff to have made a good musician if he had only, when a 
 bo}', been flogged. But he was spoiled by the facility with 
 which he produced." Burns truthfully said, 
 
 " Though losses and crosses 
 Be lessons right severe, 
 There's wit there, you'll get there, 
 You'll find no other where." 
 
 Youths sometimes wail over the ad\ersity that drives them 
 to a trade before they have acquired even a common-school 
 education. While the fate is a hard one, and is to be 
 deplored, }-et if this lashing does not arouse all their dormant 
 powers, it is questionable if the smoother path would be of 
 any real advantage. "It is only a weak man whom the 
 wind deprives of his cloak; a man of average strength is 
 more in danger of losing it when assailed by the too genial 
 
330 THE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 sun." William Cobbett's account of how he learned gram- 
 mar serves to show the power of adversity to deepen the 
 determination to accomplish a loved work. " I learned 
 grammar," said he, "when I was a private soldier on the pay 
 of sixpence a day. The edge of my berth or that of my 
 guard-bed, was my seat to study in; my knapsack was my 
 book-case; a bit of board lying on my lap was my writing 
 table; and the task did not demand anything like a year of 
 my life. I had no money to purchase candle or oil; in win- 
 ter-time it was rarely that I could get any evening light but 
 liliat of the fire, and only my turn even of that. And if I, 
 under such circumstances, and without parent or friend to 
 advise or encourage me, accomplished this undertaking, 
 what excuse can there be for any youth, however poor, 
 however pressed with business, or however circumstanced 
 as to room or other conveniences } To buy a pen or a sheet 
 of paper I was compelled to forego some portion of food, 
 though in a state of half-starvation. I had no moment of 
 time that I could call my own; and I had to read and write 
 amidst the talking, laughing, singing, whistling and brawling 
 of at least half a score of the most thoughtless of men, and 
 that, too, in the hours of their freedom from all control. 
 Think not lightly of the farthing that I had to give, now and 
 then, for ink, pen or paper! That farthing was, alas! a 
 great sum to me! I was as tall as I am now; I had great 
 health and great exercise. The whole of the money, not 
 expended for us at market, was two-pence a week for each 
 man. I remember, and well I may! that on one occasion I, 
 after all necessary expenses, had, on a Friday, made shifts 
 to have a halfpenny in reserve, which I had destined for the 
 purchase of a red herring in the morning; but, when I pulled 
 off my clothes at night, so hungry then as to be hardly able 
 
CULTURE. 331 
 
 to endure life, I found that I had lost my halfpennj'! I hur- 
 ried my head under the miserable sheet and rug and cried 
 like a child! And again I say, if I, under circumstances 
 like these, could encounter and overcome this task, is there, 
 can there be, in the whole world, a youth to find an excuse 
 for the non-performance? 
 
 The school of difficult}' makes more men than titled pro- 
 fessors. Its history would be but a record of all the great 
 and good things that have been accomplished b}' men. It 
 is probable the world would never have heard of Franklin, 
 Stephenson and Newton if they had not been stung along 
 their road by adversity. Difficulties voluntarily imposed 
 fail to have the quickening power of natural or uncontrol- 
 able circumstances. Don't plunge yourself into difficulty 
 that you may catch inspiration in getting out, else you may 
 be like the young writer who longed to paint DeQuincey's 
 pandemonium of the opium-damned, and, taking one of the 
 weird man's doses to give him imagination, he never 
 caught the inspiration, for he never recovered from the dose. 
 
 The highway of success, where all the labor of culture 
 rests on self, is steep to climb, and puts to the proof the 
 energies of the man who would reach the summit. But you 
 will soon learn that obstacles are to be overcome b}' grap- 
 pling with them; that "the nettle feels soft as silk when it 
 is boldly grasped;" and the most effective help toward 
 realizing your object is the lofty conviction that you will 
 succeed. Edmiind Burke has happily said, " Difficulty is a 
 severe instructor set over us by the supreme ordinance of a 
 Parent who knows us better than we know ourselves, as He 
 loves us better too. He that wrestles with us strengthens 
 our nerves, and sharpens our skill: our antagonist is thus 
 our helper." 
 
332 THE GEHnUS OF INDUSTRT. 
 
 A cultured man is ahva}- ready with his point, and makes 
 it. He alvvaj's knows what to sa}', when to sa}^ it, and when 
 to stop. 1 le never travels in a roundabout course. He has a 
 more practical aim before him than simply to fill up the time. 
 He does not deal in fringe-work, tiowers or persiflage, but 
 leaves these to be dealt out by the effeminate fools who deck 
 themselves merely to strut. Culture is not constantly shelving 
 off on to the stars of hyperbole. It does not catch up the 
 nomenclature and m3'tholog3' of Greece and pour them in 
 incessant showers over the heads of a palled audience, but 
 it catches the Homeric fire, and burning it over in the cru- 
 cible of a painstaking brain, it enkindles those about it. 
 
 Culture prunes away all excesses, and thus throws vitality 
 into the stem of action. It puts one in possession of pure 
 power. It sees a barricade looming up, and strikes it down 
 on the spot. It seizes the gates of Gaza, bears them out of 
 reach, and at the same time boldl}' tra\-erses tlie citadel. It 
 makes minute-men. It enriches one with all the resources 
 of art and invention. It shapes and strengthens tlie life of 
 its owner, so that, let him be situated as he may, the serenity 
 that he displays indicates the power, in repose, he possesses. 
 
 Guard well your hours, and guard your character. Seek 
 the society of 3'our superiors ; drink deep at the fountains of 
 knowledge; direct the wisdom you acquire to worthy ends; 
 center all your powers upon the problem of your destiny; 
 bring yourself up to the loftiest point of excellence access- 
 ible to you; so that, at the close of life's travail, if compelled, 
 with Morton, to exclaim, "I am dying! I am worn out!" 
 you may at least be able to say, with the eccentric Richter, 
 " I have made as much out of myself as could be made out 
 of the stuftV 
 
^M'^^^ 
 
 \% ^^<?a'^AA^i<i^ 
 
Who noble ends by nobie means attains, 
 Or, failing, snniles in exile or in chains. 
 Like good Aurelius, let him reign or bleed. 
 Like Socrates, that man is great indeed. 
 
 —Pope. 
 
 Patient of toil; serene amidst alarms- inflexible in faith; invincible In arms. 
 
Im%^ \ ut^fklh 
 
 AMES A. GARFIELD was born in Cuyahoga 
 County, Ohio, on November 19th, 1831. His 
 father, Abram Garfield, owned a small tract of land 
 near the village of Orange. A fire had been raging in the 
 forest surrounding the Garfield cabin, and the father, to save 
 his fences and twenty acres of wheat, had been fighting its 
 flames all night. With the danger over, worn out and o\er- 
 heated, he sat in the doorway to rest. The breezes wafted 
 over the saved fields brought death on their wings. Abram 
 Garfield, seized with a chill, sank rapidly into death. Feel- 
 ing that he could live no longer, he called his wife to his 
 bedside and said, " I am going to leave you, Eliza. I have 
 planted four saplings in these woods, and I must now leave 
 them to your care." Then he looked out of his window 
 over his field toward the rising sun, called his oxen b}- name, 
 turned upon his side and died. Overwhelmed with the sud- 
 denness of her great calamity, the mother stood in her deso- 
 late home with four children and death. 
 
 Two days after, a few friends came home with her from 
 the funeral, and advised that the children be given out to be 
 raised. The little farm was encumbered with a debt, and 
 onlv a few acres of the land was " cleared." But the mother 
 
336 THE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 refused to part from her children, and with tlieir infanc}', 
 and a mortgage on the farm, she began the struggle for a 
 living. Ten years followed, crowded with toil and want, 
 but the children were kept together, and the debt on the 
 place was paid. The widow was wedded to her family and 
 surrendered her whole service to their protection and rear- 
 ing. Schools were limited in their vicinity, but she was 
 educated, and her husband, a studious man, had provided 
 many books for the house. The long winter evenings were 
 spent before the log fire in a home school, and in reading 
 the various books that would interest her pupils. 
 
 James, the youngest member of the family, was more 
 interested in the studies than the other children. Too young 
 to care for orators and statesmen, warriors were his especial 
 admiration. Chief among these were the Indian heroes. 
 He had all the trees in the orchard named after his favorites, 
 the largest tree receiving the name of his noblest chief, 
 Tecumseh. The older son, Thomas, with the aid of a hired 
 man, worked the farm, the two girls assisting their mother, 
 while James, who was now twelve )'ears of age, was looked 
 to as the general roustabout. He was good natured, of 
 extraordinary strength and size for his jears, and appeared 
 capable of doing an}' kind of odd jobs. He had a turn for 
 tools, and getting possession of a saw, a hammer and a shav- 
 ing knife, he put the doors, and chairs, and whole house in 
 repairs. Thomas said, "James will surely be a carpenter 
 some day and build houses." Building workmen were 
 scarce in that early da}^, and contractors were anxious to 
 get rough helpers. James proved himself capable and trusty, 
 and the people of Orange soon began to engage the young 
 workman on his own account. They said he was a "great 
 lubber, but a hard worker, and a might}' good boy to help 
 
JAMES A. GARFIELD. 337 
 
 his mother." By the time he had reached the age of fifteen, 
 his services were in constant demand, and as far as the time 
 could be spared fi-om the farm he was in town at work. 
 The family's expenses were not large, and the extra labor 
 of the youngest boy was proving a source of surplus revenue. 
 
 His brother and sisters had ceased with older years to 
 care for study, but age added to the appetite of James. 
 The day's toil was exceedingly severe when he failed to 
 read an hour from some book in the evening. Books of 
 adventure, and the freebooters' exploits, fascinated him. 
 "The Pirates Own Book " was to him a source of ceaseless 
 delight. When other books had been read once they were 
 laid aside; not so with this; other books might grow old, 
 but when he wanted something fresh and restful, he would 
 bivouac with the pirates for an evening. He was full of 
 dreams of exploits, and entertained the family with visions 
 of his proposed achievements. 
 
 He was about ten years old when he read the " Life of 
 Napoleon," and informed his mother that when he got to 
 be a man he was going to be a soldier, and whip people as 
 Napoleon did. The literature of the youth has much to do 
 in forming the character of the man. If blood-curdling 
 adventures of long-haired heroes are permitted to consume 
 the reading hours of a child, the best results need not be 
 expected from the development of his mind. The heroes 
 of the early years, permitted to stay through the maturing 
 years, are generally assimilated into the character of the 
 worshiper, and he becomes an imitation of his ideal. 
 
 The young Garfield, possessed of a broad and active mind, 
 having a touch of poetry in its make-up, was well calculated 
 to be influenced by stories of daring and lives of romance. 
 The careful mother viewed the tendency with apprehension, 
 
338 THE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY 
 
 and tried to restrain his growing love for adventure, and yet 
 not curb his boyish enthusiasm. With as deft a move of 
 diplomacy as ever Talleyrand or Franklin employed, she 
 turned his mind from the freebooters to the "Life of Wash- 
 ington," and held up the father of his country as an exam- 
 ple; she left room for the play of his venturous imagination, 
 but shaped all its exploits to deeds of honor and sacrifice 
 for patriotism. Once settled in the right channel the mother 
 was willing to let his restless nature flow on. But his char- 
 acter appeared to be like some mountain streams, always in 
 a freshet, and never gave any knowledge of which way the 
 channel would turn next. 
 
 When James was eleven years of age he became inter- 
 ested in the debates and literary exercises which were often 
 held in winter evenings at the school house. It is said, as a 
 critic, he was dreaded by the older boys and by some of the 
 old men. The ibllowing winter, through his uncle's influence, 
 a lyceum was organized in Orange, and here the young 
 critic ventured his first speech. The humorous phase of a 
 subject always attracted him. The subject for discussion in 
 one of the first debates was, " Resolved, that navigation is 
 of superior importance to some other branch of human 
 industr}'." The young orator "supposed a case," where a 
 meal of victuals awaited a hungry, drunken man, but he 
 coukl not get to them. "Now," said the speaker, "that 
 man is too drunk to navigate himself. He will have no 
 supper. Now of what use are all the beans, potatoes, 
 sausages and doughnuts to a man who can't navigate.^" 
 That speech was conclusive, and by a unanimous ^"ote it was 
 seriousl}' declared that it was of the highest importance 
 that men be able " to navigate." The interest in the 
 debates increased, and the }'oung disputant, with a quickened 
 
JAMES A. GARFIELD. 339 
 
 desire for reading, speedily exhausted the Hbrary at home 
 and searched the neighborhood and drew upon his distant 
 relatives for books and papers. He put his soul into the 
 work and looked eagerly forward to each debate with 
 increasing interest. In less than two years he became the 
 principal debater with the old men. He became so enthused 
 with speaking that the lyceum nights failed to afford him 
 all the exercise he desired. He accordingly repaired to a 
 high ledge of broken rocks in the woods not far from his 
 home, where one shaft of rock rose considerably above its 
 neighbors. From the top of that rock James would deliver 
 to the rocks and trees his burning addresses. He called 
 that rock his pulpit; and never, in sacred desk or in halls of 
 national councils, did he find a place where there seemed to 
 him such necessity for dignity, for grammatical accuracy, or 
 for stirring illustration as on the forest rostrum among the 
 aged maples. 
 
 No amount of study in after years will ever produce the 
 beneficial results of a proper training in the developing 
 years; there voice, style of delivery, and methods of 
 thought are potent factors in influencing the unfolding 
 powers. Even a limited drill here, in these requirements of a 
 speaker, is readily taken and assimilated by nature. All 
 his powers are thus natural, and he is never liable to the 
 faults of the elocutionist. Mr. Beecher attributes his success 
 as a speaker, in a large measure, to the persistent drill he 
 passed through during his school days. He was a member 
 of every lyceum within reach of his home and prepared 
 himself for the discussions with much more energy than he 
 manifested for his recitations. He soon recognized the 
 value of a "good voice," and made the college campus 
 ring and home hideous with his aspirated quality and 
 
340 THE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 explosive orotund. He was not afraid if the neighbors did 
 hear him. Every day in his room he delivered an impromptu 
 address upon some subject with which he was familiar. 
 That speech was characterized by all the earnestness and 
 fire that marked his efforts in the. society of debaters. 
 When an effort springs out of a desire to seize an oppor- 
 tunity for display of one's powers there is usually an absence 
 of that realism which is essential to distinguished success. 
 
 Valuable oratorical training is not confined to a few 
 elocutionary schools in the cities. These doubtless are of 
 much profit to their pupils, but a finished delivery alone 
 does not constitute the whole of eloquence. Training makes, 
 an actor, but never an orator. No one ever saw an actor 
 who was also a great orator. The fewest number of the 
 great speakers have ever received any art training. Up to 
 a certain degree an elocutionary course is beneficial. It has 
 injured more than it has ever helped. The Boston school 
 of orator}' has graduated some men who recite magnificentl}', 
 but Massachusetts has graduated her orators in the district 
 schools and country debating clubs. 
 
 The soul of eloquence must be in the man, as it was in 
 Clay and Henry. Knowledge gives it material to work 
 with, and enthusiasm adorns it with that witchery and 
 fascination, that splendor and conviction, that carries the 
 hearer captive. Patrick Henry's first speech sparkled with 
 that indefinable charm which mere cultivation never 
 possesses. A mind that pours forth its broad and generous 
 thought in the untrammeled freedom of nature never fails to 
 impress its hearers, however much of grace and art there 
 may be lacking in pose and gesture. The voice of Beacons- 
 field was never pleasant; none knew this better than himself, 
 so he never relied on it for his effect. He gave himself to 
 
w l^t^ 
 
 ^^^■i^-LX- 
 
I 
 
 JAMES A. GARFIELD. 311 
 
 the study of his theme, and never spoke until he had mas- 
 tered its ever}' detail; then, bent on a conquest, he assailed 
 the subject to win. Spurgeon, the great preacher of 
 London, has a commanding and direct delivery which no 
 man not his identical could use. He speaks with limited 
 preparation, from a store-house full of information. His 
 thoughts pour on to the audience so natural and soulful 
 that no one ever considers the delivery. They think onl}- 
 of what is being said. The school of oratory which young 
 Garfield was now attending was the same one in which all 
 the great masters had taken their tutelage. 
 
 When about fifteen 3'ears old, in the course of his trade, 
 he was assisting in building an addition to a house. The 
 owner of the house, whose business was that of a " black 
 Salter," noticed the peculiar activit}' and ingenuity displayed 
 by James in his work, and took a liking to him. Needing 
 such a person he oftered him his board and fourteen dollars 
 a month to sta}- with him and help in the saltery. The 
 offer was accepted. In this business he succeeded well, and 
 was expected h\ his employer to make a first class salter. 
 The process of leaching ashes and extracting the salts, by 
 boiling the liquid, was not a pleasant labor, but he stood by 
 his contract faithfully, working often until late at night, and 
 always black with ashes and soot. The work grew dis- 
 tasteful to him, not so much the labor as the outlook of the 
 employment. Larger schemes were revolving in his brain 
 than a life of boiling salts. He had obtained a copy of 
 "Jack Halyard," and a life on the sea once more opened 
 before him. The story of Nelson and Trafalgar, and the 
 like men and things, began to take shape in his thought as 
 the central facts of history. He read these tales of the sea 
 with growing aspirations, and while in this brittle state of 
 
342 THE GENIUS OF IXDUSTRT. 
 
 mind chose a provocation on the part of his employer and 
 quit his service. 
 
 The passion for the sea was at its height, but home and 
 mother w^ere to be considered. That tireless guardian had 
 time and again expressed her longing that he should love 
 books and become an educated man, and take a place 
 among men of character and intellect. The struggle for 
 life on the farm had not yet become easy, and his absence 
 wrould be felt. Out of employment and restless, and with- 
 out work, he decided to accept a contract as a wood-chopper. 
 A boy in years, he had the strength of a man. Of a hardy 
 race, with extraordinary physical powers, he felt no hesi- 
 tancy in undertaking a man's work at any manual labor. 
 Twenty-five cords of wood were rapidly cut for seven dol- 
 lars. The timber in which he was chopping was on the 
 lake shore, near Cleveland, where he saw the vessels passing 
 every hour. His interest in the sea increased with every 
 fresh sail. At harvest time he went home, and when the 
 gi-ain was all safely stored he announced to his mother his 
 intention to go to sea at once. It was a cruel blow to her 
 hopes, but the firm resolve of the good-hearted corsair 
 would brook no pleadings. With the last good-bye uttered,, 
 he walked to Cleveland. His extravagant imagination had 
 pictured sailors and sea captains as Eastern people paint the 
 " noble red man," with a bearing and a character akin to 
 the gods. A vessel was in port, and ascending the gang- 
 plank he stepped on deck with a joyful heart. 
 
 " Where is the captain of the ship.'' " he asked of several 
 rough looking men at work among the ropes. 
 
 The sailors made no answer, but one of their number 
 made a motion indicating the captain was below. 
 
JAMES A. GARFIELD. 343 
 
 Suddenly the captain appeared at the hatchway almost 
 too drunk to walk. 
 
 "I would like to speak to the captain," said James to the 
 drunken man. 
 
 The captain was annoyed because his appearance had 
 failed to indicate his position. He fired a volley of oaths at 
 the inquiring stranger, who essa3-ing to make known his 
 desire to go to . sea, was met with another storm of curses, 
 and joined in a chorus by the derisive laughter of the sailors. 
 
 The boy, astounded and confused, beat a hasty retreat. 
 The interview was a revelation to him. The dreams of 
 seafaring grandeur were crushed by an oath. His aspira- 
 tions had received such a terrible shock he at once decided 
 he had been as near a sailor as he ever wished to be. 
 
 There seemed to be nothing left but to return home. 
 Pride interposed; he had just left home, overruling the objec- 
 tions of the entire famil}'; he had left home, too, with con- 
 siderable ostentation, and great promises of what he would 
 do, and now to return before his mother's tears were scarcely 
 dried, and that, too, because a drunken captain had cursed 
 him, he could never do. He must find employment else- 
 where; a mother's training may often be relied on when 
 her pleadings have failed. His mother's moral teachings 
 had been on the highest plane of gentility and pure chivalr3\ 
 When the bo}' stood for the first time face to face with 
 brutal domination and coarse breeding, his nature instinc- 
 tively shrank from the contact; his feelings were uncontrol- 
 lable and drove him from the scene. 
 
 The earnest devotion to books, the energy with which he 
 worked on the farm and in the forest, and the love for dis- 
 tinction that might not be cherished by a high honor, all 
 seemed to unite in the young man and form a peculiar and 
 
344 THE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 paradoxical character. The stalwart youth was restlessly 
 knocking at the door of life, but which of her various occu- 
 pations he would accept was hid from his view. lie 
 possessed the contradictory tendencies of three callings — 
 sailor, carpenter and preacher. The pretty fable, by which 
 the Duchess of Orleans illustrated the character of her son, 
 the Regent, might, with little change, be applied to Garfield. 
 All the fairies save one had been bidden to his cradle. All 
 the gossips had been profuse of their gifts. One had 
 bestowed nobility, another genius, another eloquence. The 
 malignant, who had been unin\-itcd, came last, and unable 
 to reverse what her sisters had done to their favorite, had 
 mixed up a curse with every blessing. In the character, 
 understanding, and person of 3'oung Garfield there was a 
 strange union of opposite extremes. He had a large amount 
 of common sense, great force of character, and much apti- 
 tude at stud}-. If he could be directed into the right 
 channel he would achieve a creditable showing in life. 
 
 Lord Byron, eminently dissimilar from the 'developments 
 in Garfield's character, was gifted with this strange admix- 
 ture of contradictor}' qualities. His essayist says: "He 
 was born to all that men co\'et and admire, but in every one 
 of these eminent ad\antages which he possessed over others 
 was mingled something of misery and debasement. He 
 was sprung from a house ancient indeed, and noble, but 
 degraded and impoverished by a series of crimes and follies 
 which had attained a scandalous publicity. The kinsman 
 whom he succeeded had died poor. The }'oung peer had 
 great intellectual powers, yet there was an unsound part in his 
 mind. He had naturall}' a generous and feeling heart, but 
 his temper was wayward and irritable. He had a head 
 which statuaries loved to copy, and a foot the deformity of 
 
JAMES A. GARFIELD. 3i5 
 
 which the beggars in the streets mimicked. Distinguished 
 at once by the strength and by the weakness of his intellect, 
 affectionate yet perverse, a poor lord and a handsome crip- 
 ple, he required, if ever man required, the firmest and most 
 judicious training. The poem which he published on his 
 return from his travels at the age of twenty-four was 
 extolled until the young author found himself on the highest 
 pinnacle of literary fame with Scott, Wordsworth, Southey, 
 and a crowd of other distinguished writers beneath his feet. 
 He received the acclamations of the whole nation, the 
 applause of applauded men, the love of lovely women. All 
 this world and all the glory of it were at once offered to a 
 3'outh to whom nature had given violent passions, and whom 
 education had never taught to control them. Anxiety, 
 exertion, exposure, and those fatal stimulants which had 
 become indispensable to him, soon stretched him on a sick 
 bed, in a strange land, among strange faces, without one 
 human being that he loved near him. There, at thirty-six, 
 the most celebrated Englishman of the nineteenth century 
 closed his brilliant and miserable career." 
 
 The wa}'ward and restless youth of Garfield gave pre- 
 monitions of an unhapp}' future. Unacquainted with the 
 demands of a man's own nature for a definite end in life, 
 and untaught to know the virtue of rectitude, B3'ron 
 clouded his path with excess and inconstancy that in a few 
 years rendered him an outcast and forever crushed his proud 
 spirit. Such natures, filled with the potenc}' for great 
 achievements, are in youth beset with great imaginings of 
 deeds to be performed. Romance and adventure lead the 
 procession. A dexterous hand is needed to guide them into 
 conflicts worthy of their steel. Garfield was blessed with 
 
3i6 THE GENIUS OF INDUS TUT. 
 
 what- Byron had not; a devoted mother, the impress of 
 whose training never left her boy. 
 
 Having beaten a retreat from the lake, James was con- 
 fronted with the necessity for immediate emplo}-ment. He 
 was destitute of money. He had a relati\-e, Amos Letcher^ 
 who was the commander of a canal boat, and to this boat 
 his steps were turned. He frankly related the lake exper- 
 ience and confessed the canal was now as attractive as the 
 sea. Letcher employed him to drive the mules. Once 
 started he felt that the canal wasn't the rolling waves of the 
 deep blue sea, but he trudged on uneventfully until, by his 
 inexperience, he let the boat strike a bridge abutment with 
 a taut line, which jerked the mules down the embankment 
 and sent their rider into the water. He climbed to his seat, 
 thankful it was the canal. At a lock a boat going the 
 opposite wa}' came up just as Letcher was about to turn the 
 lock for his own; the other got there first; Letcher's men 
 sprang to the land ready for a hglit; they told the driver to 
 come on. James asked the captain, " Does the right belong 
 to us .'' " " No, I guess not; but we have started in for it 
 and we are going to have it anyhow." "No, sir," said 
 James, " I say we will noi have it. I will no^ fight to keep 
 them out of their rights." This brought the crew to their 
 senses, and the captain told the other boat to take the 
 lock. 
 
 That night the crew voted the driver a coward. This 
 made him to them the most intolerable of all criminals. He 
 had been in the compan}' of such men enough to sensibly 
 feel the degradation. It requires a large amount of principle 
 to stand against the decision of companions when that prin- 
 ciple is regarded by them as cowardice. But he manfully 
 held his own, and did so many generous acts on the trip, 
 
JAMES A. G^LRFIELD. 347 
 
 that he began to win the respect of all the crew. As the 
 boat neared Pittsburgh and was being hitched to a tug, a fly- 
 ing piece of rope, thrown up from the tug, which James 
 should have caught, struck "Dave," the bull}' of the boat. 
 Turning on the bo}' in a rage he aimed a blow with all his 
 strength, but the blow was dodged, and whirling about 
 James planted a terrific blow behind the fellow's ear, which 
 felled him to the floor. Before he could recover James 
 straddled him and clutched his throat. The boat- 
 men yelled with delight. The bully had been downed by a 
 boy, and he, the coward of the boat. They danced around 
 the victor and urged him on. The proper thing under such 
 circumstances was for the top man to demolish the other 
 man's features. James simply held him until the excitement 
 had passed, and Dave was permitted to get up bloodless and 
 without a scratch. From that hour he was the hero of the 
 tow-path. 
 
 A certain amount of physical courage is necessary to the 
 duties of business. It is not often needed in physical combat, 
 but the quality must be there to insure an aggressive advo- 
 cacy of a cause, or an unflinching front in defense. The 
 personal courage of Bismarck is equal to the valor of his 
 statesmanship; the eloquence and patriotism of Demosthenes 
 would have gone as chaff before the winds, had he not pos- 
 sessed the lion-like courage to face a nation on the retreat, 
 defying every possible danger, and on this courage his elo- 
 quence had the opportunity to win the day. General 
 Benjamin F. Butler was once announced to make a public ad- 
 dress in New York, from a platform in front of the city hall. 
 It was in the riotous election times of the war. The opposition 
 papers warned him it was worth his life to make the attempt. 
 A New York mob, which is equal to a Paris mob, surrounded 
 
SiS THE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 the stand. The general entered the hall from a back door, 
 ^nd from the front walked to his place. The mob ordered 
 him not to speak; he smiled upon them and commenced to 
 talk about the greatness of their city. They cried that it 
 would'nt do, and threw missiles at the stand. An apple 
 struck him and rolled away. He trotted after it, playfully 
 picked it up, took out his knife and deliberately began to 
 pare the apple and eat it, all the time talking about the 
 glory of New York and the glory of the country. Within 
 fifteen minutes he had the mob conquered, and delivered 
 his speech. The committee had refused to go on to the 
 stage with hirri. His life would have been in danger if he 
 had evinced the slightest fear. It required courage to go 
 there when he might have stayed away without risk. It 
 was this same-courage that led him through three disastrous 
 defeats in his campaign for the Governorship of Massachu- 
 setts, facing an opposition terrible and scandalous, and has 
 now tinall}' brought its reward by placing him in the guber- 
 natorial chair by a triumphant majority. 
 
 Garfield had now been advanced to bow-man, at the 
 request of the captain's wife, who " felt so much safer when 
 Jim was at the bow." One night, as they were nearing the 
 last lock on their return, he was awakened suddenly, and, 
 half asleep through continual watching and a sickness that 
 was now settling on him, he lost his balance as he was pay- 
 ing out the steadying rope, and went over the bow of the 
 boat into the water. Instinctively clutching the rope, he 
 sank below the surface ; then it tightened in his grasp and 
 held firmly. Hand over hand he drew himself upon the 
 deck. A kink in the rope had caught in a narrow cleft in 
 the edge of the deck, so the windlass could not unwind, and 
 proved his salvation. Long after the boat had passed the 
 
JAMES A. GARFIELD. SiO 
 
 lock he stood in his dripping clothes and pondered over the 
 striking feature of the rope catching as it did. Coiling the 
 rope, he tried to throw it again into the crevice, but it had 
 lost the knack of kinking; many times he tried — six hund- 
 red it is said — and then sat down and reflected. "I have 
 thrown this rope six hundred times. I might throw it ten 
 times as many without its catching. Ten times six hundred 
 are six thousand, so there were six thousand chances against 
 mv life; Providence alone could have saved me against such 
 odds. If Providence thinks my life is worth saving, I won't 
 throw it away on a canal boat. PU go home, get an educa- 
 tion and become a man." 
 
 When the boat landed in the inorning, he settled with the 
 master, and bidding the crew good-b3-e, started for home. 
 It was night when he reached the house, all the family had 
 retired, save the mother. Through the open window he 
 saw her poring over her Bible. His confidence was strength- 
 ened that it was not all superstition that had driven him 
 from the boat. In a few days his growing illness culminated 
 in a sickness that held him in the house for four months — 
 just the time he had been on the water. During his illness 
 Samuel D. Bates, a teacher at the school house located on 
 the Garfield place, frequently called on him, and astonished 
 at his intelligence, urged him to attend the coming session 
 of the '' Geauga Seminary," whither Bates was also going. 
 James thought the subject over, but was undecided. He 
 thought a good carpenter ought not to be spoiled to make a 
 bad professor or preacher. Before making a decision he 
 did a characteristicall}- sensible thing; he took a measure of 
 his powers, mentalh- and physically, from a competent and 
 disinterested gentleman. He called on Dr. J. P. Robinson, 
 of Bedford, an eminent physician, and, introducing himself, 
 
350 THE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 said : " My home is at Orange. I have onl}' a scanty know- 
 ledge of books, but have taken up the idea of getting an 
 education, and before beginning I w^ant to know what I have 
 to count on. Examine me and say plainly whether 3'ou 
 think I will be able to succeed." 
 
 The frank speech won the doctor, and he gave his caller 
 a thorough examination both in body and mind, occupying 
 an hour in drawing out the resources and quality of his 
 mind. When the interview closed, the doctor said: "Your 
 brain is large and good, and your physique is adapted to 
 hard work. Go ahead! You are fitted to follow your am- 
 bition, and you are sure to succeed." He no longer doubted 
 his abilities. The following day he returned home, firmly 
 determined to obtain an education and win a place in the 
 world. 
 
 It is of great value for a racer in the start for his contest 
 to get an honest estimate given him of his powers. Half the 
 young men at college have made efforts to get this valua- 
 tion, but few have obtained it. They failed to consult the 
 proper person. It never occurs to them that the physician, 
 who has made the mind and temperament a study in connec- 
 tion with the body, and to whom they are a stranger, is the 
 only one fitted to give a trustworthy estimate of their pow- 
 ers and possibilities. 
 
 Having determined to secure an education, he began pre- 
 parations for the ensuing term of the " Geauga Seminary." 
 The expense was great to the family. An entire suit of 
 clothes had to be added. Although the family at home 
 made the suit, when its cost was added to other necessaries, 
 it was found there was but seventeen dollars left for the 
 board and tuition of the session. Three 3'oung friends 
 joined with him, renting an old room and hiring an aged 
 
JA3IES A. GARFIELD. 351 
 
 lady next door to do their cooking. From the autobio- 
 graphy of Henry C. Wright they learned a tale of support- 
 ing life on bread and crackers. The cook was dismissed 
 and they did the work themselves. Garfield's life here 
 lacked comfort, but it gave him power. Under the whip of 
 his miserable surroundings he never for a moment lost sight 
 of the purpose that brought him there. At every recitation 
 he did his best. He never missed a meeting of the literary 
 society. In that one term he made inore advancement in 
 his studies than most students acquire in a year. When 
 summer came the fare and the struggle of the winter had 
 not abated his zeal. From the school he went into the 
 harvest-field the next day. When harvest was over, he 
 went back to the old occupation of wood chopper. 
 
 When fall came, he had mone}'' enough saved to begin 
 another term at the seminar}'. At the close of the last ses- 
 sion, when they had discharged the cook and were living 
 chiefly on bread, which was sent fresh from home ever}- 
 week, and on their own mush and molasess, until James was 
 growing sick and dissatisfied, he threw down his spoon one 
 day, as he finished his pudding and molasses, saying, " I 
 won't eat any inore of that stuff if I starve." So, on his 
 return in the fall he took boarding and a room with a family 
 at one dollar and six cents a week. This seemed extrava- 
 gant to him, but one year on mush and potatoes was all he 
 could endure. Boarding, he had a little more leisure, and 
 he took all the odd jobs he could get at carpentering. His 
 rough fare and hard work and study never altered his 
 determination. Few successful men have spent their entire 
 youth in school. The keenest intellects and the greatest 
 minds have almost universally been found with those 
 whose youth was inured to hardships and whose early 
 
35i3 TEE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 years were spent in anxiety and hard work. Many 
 vigorous minds inhabit frail bodies, which they usually over- 
 work and crush before a start has fairly been made in life. 
 With a healthy body, none need despair of an education, 
 even with the most unfortunate surroundings. A mind is 
 not all that is required — even in Yale and Harvard there 
 must be a good animal as well. 
 
 A knowledge of mathematics, of language and history is 
 no more valuable because learned inside of college halls 
 They can be learned easier there than elsewhere. Fre- 
 quently a more practical bearing is given to the acquirement 
 out of college than in it. The great questions of leadership 
 among men are not assisted by a collegiate course. Many of 
 our professors make leaders out of themselves instead of teach- 
 ers. The real sphere of the teacher is to teach the pupil in all 
 things which make a success in life. Timel}' hints dropped on 
 matters of the world and how to live in it, often prove from 
 a teacher of more real value to the pupil than a whole term 
 of study. Calhoun studied the problems of politics and 
 leadership quite as much during his college days as his 
 recitations. He was near to perfect in his classes, and as 
 well advanced in other science, for within two years after he 
 graduated he was nominated for Congress. 
 
 The following season the school trustees besought James 
 to take a school, which the rowdyism of the big boys had 
 broken up for two winters. A family consultation was 
 held, to which " Uncle Amos" was invited. They all felt 
 that the offer ought not to be refused, for the salary was 
 badly needed. Uncle Amos finally settled the matter; "you 
 go and try it," he said; "you will go into that school as the 
 boy Jim Garfield; see that you come out as Mr. Garfield, the 
 school-master." He accordingl}' began school, and mustered 
 
JAMES A. GARFIELD. 353 
 
 it in on an approved plan, flogging the bully after he had 
 attempted to put the teacher out of the house. The manage- 
 ment of this school was the most serious problem he hatl yet 
 encountered. The leader had been thrashed, but not subju- 
 gated. The teacher sought to be one with the pupils on 
 the playground, and devised all sorts of plans for making the 
 school interesting indoors. He " boarded around among the 
 scholars" and entertained the families of evenings by read- 
 ing aloud to them or reciting some of the remarkable things 
 he had read. Before spring he had gained the good will of 
 all, and was pronounced the best teacher the Ledge school 
 had ever had. He returned to the seminary in the spring. 
 The path which lay before him was not an inviting one. It 
 required four years to complete the preparatory course, and 
 four years more for the regular college course. He said, by 
 attending otf and on, as he would have to quit at times to 
 teach, he "could get through in twelve years." He entered 
 this term, having succeeded as a teacher, with renewed 
 determination to finish the regular course. He never swerved 
 from that resolution. It became the overmastering thought 
 of his life. He clung to that purpose with a tenacity and 
 single-heartedness that bowed all other interests to this 
 achievement. Lord John Russel was of wealthy and illustri- 
 ous parentage, but had squandered his time in idle traveling ; 
 when on the continent a letter received from his father an- 
 nounced that his name had been proposed for Parliament, he 
 came home, and was elected on the wealth and popularity of 
 the family. The election gave him a place without the 
 parts or dignity of character to maintain it. He at once 
 resolved to make himself worthy of the trust given him. 
 He placed himself under private tutelage, and studied with 
 such ceaseless persistence that within four years he was re- 
 
354 THE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 cognized as one of the most learned gentlemen of the House, 
 and became one of the most thoroughly educated and influen- 
 tial of English statesmen. Andrew Johnson, who became Pre- 
 sident of the United States, could neither read nor write when 
 he was married at the age of twenty-one years. His wife 
 taught him to read. With the care of a family dependent 
 on his work as a tailor, he nevertheless so contrived to se- 
 cure hours for study that he soon became conspicuous for his 
 general information, and as United States Senator and as 
 President of the nation, the absence from a college in his 
 young years was never observable. A generous resolution 
 to have an education has been found to be a greater gift 
 than wealth or opportunities of youth. 
 
 The Christian church held monthly services at the school 
 house on the Garfield land. James had always attended 
 church regularl}-. When a young preacher came into the 
 neighborhood it was generally claimed that Jim Garfield 
 knew more of the Bible than he did. In that early da}' the 
 members of the Christian church were reputed to know the 
 Bible by heart. The sect was every where spoken against, 
 and holding the Bible as their only creed, they were thor- 
 oughl}- posted in its teachings. Every Disciple was sup- 
 posed to carry a Testament, ready to fire the chapter and 
 verse of proof at any unlucky sectarian who chanced to 
 attack him. Mrs. Garfield was a devoted Christian lady; 
 she studied her Bible reverently, and reared her children in 
 the like knowledge. The younger son, as he was arranging 
 his plans for life, with characteristic thoughtfulness, united 
 with the church. 
 
 At the close of the second year at the seminary, he 
 decided to try another school. Of this two years he after- 
 ward said, " I remember with great satisfaction the work 
 
JAMES A. GARFIELD. 355 
 
 done for me at Chester ; it marked the most decisive change 
 in my Hfe. While there I fonned a definite purpose to com- 
 plete a college course." It is a great point gained when a 
 young man makes up his mind to devote several years to 
 the accomplishment of a definite work. With the educa- 
 tional facilities now afforded in our country, no young man 
 who has good health can be excused for not obtaining a 
 good education. Poverty is very inconvenient, but it is a 
 fine spur to activity, and may be made a rich blessing. 
 
 Hiram College, an institution recently opened under the 
 auspices of his own church, attracted his attention, and as it 
 offered a superior course of study to the seminar}', he decided 
 to go there. Shortly after he arrived at Hiram, learning 
 that the officers of the college were in executive session, he 
 introduced himself as a student from Orange, the son of a 
 widow, compelled to work his way through school, and 
 asked to be made janitor. The Board hesitated. He pleads, 
 "Try me two weeks, and if you are not satisfied I will quit." 
 They tried him; he did his duty perfectly, having at all 
 times a pleasant word for pupils and professors. Very soon 
 the school acknowledged the paradox, that the janitor was 
 its most popular member. One of the teachers falling ill, 
 Garfield was chosen to fill his place. He performed the 
 duty so acceptably that he was never without a class dur- 
 ing the remainder of his stay at Hiram. As a teacher, he 
 was singularly successful ; his recitations were always inter- 
 esting. He presented his own views on the subject in a 
 manner unusually attractive, and then made the lesson 
 luminous by illustrations drawn from his wide range of 
 reading. 
 
 Being janitor, pupil and tutor, did not lessen his attention 
 to the carpenter business. Noons, evenings, and Saturdays, 
 
356 THE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 were spent at the odd jobs that could be picked up. This 
 would have destroyed the standing of some men as tutor, 
 and even as pupil, but he was sustained by a dignity of 
 character, and earnestness of purpose, that made this add to 
 the high esteem in which he was held. Entering Hiram 
 without a dollar, he left free from debt and with three 
 hundred and fifty dollars on which to enter another college. 
 During the time he was at Hiram he took an active interest 
 in the church, and usually led the social exercises. During 
 the political campaign of that year he became engaged in 
 politics, and sometimes caused the church to share his activi- 
 ties with the political rallies. One evening during a pro- 
 tracted meeting, while he was sitting in the pulpit with the 
 pastor, a young man walked down the aisle and spoke to 
 him, wanting him to go and address a political meeting. 
 Garfield quietly slipped out of the church; when Father 
 Bently discovered his absence, he was about to call him back, 
 but comprehending the situation, he stopped suddenly and 
 said, " Well, I suppose we must let him go. Ver}' likely he 
 will be President of the United States some day." 
 
 In after years, in a speech to the students at Hiram, 
 recounting the struggles of the students when he was there 
 in those early days, he said: " It was a simple question of 
 sinking or swimming for themselves, and I know we are all 
 inclined to be a little clannish over our own. We have, per- 
 haps, a right to be; but I do not know of any place, I do 
 not know of any institution, that has accomplished more 
 with so little means as has this school on Hiram Hill. I 
 know of no place where the doctrine of self-help has a fuller 
 development, by necessity as well as finally by choice, as 
 here on this hill. The doctrine of self-help and of force has 
 the chief place among these men and women around here. 
 
JAMES A. GAUFIELD. 357 
 
 As I said a great many years ago about that, the act of 
 Hiram was to throw its young men and women overboard, 
 and let them try it for themselves, and all those able to get 
 ashore got ashore, and I think we had few cases of drown- 
 ing." The second year at Hiram was not confined to the 
 regular course of study; he was leading all his classes by 
 such easy stages, that there was time for a distinct course in 
 addition. He took up a regular system of historical and of 
 theological reading. At Yale the regular course is so 
 severe that no student can add any extra reading. The 
 whole waking time is required by the number of studies and 
 the length of the lessons, to prepare even the quickest minds 
 for creditable recitation. To graduate with the honors of 
 Yale is a proud achievement, but it is worth a student's life 
 to secure the place. The majority of the first honors of 
 that institution have never been heard of afterwards. The 
 strain on tlie powers that have not been fully developed by 
 time and hardened by experience is so great, that they never 
 after mature and ripen to endurance. Ann Arbor is not so 
 profound in her collegiate ways as many of the Eastern 
 schools, and is therefore growing a race of men that will be 
 vastly superior in the practical ways of the world. The 
 graduate who, leaving college, gazes at his diploma and can 
 say he knows all that that comprehends, will be distanced 
 by the one who knows it, fairly well, and knows other things 
 in addition. When the aged dean informed Webster that 
 he received his diploma partially out of consideration for his 
 venerable mother, the starless graduate tore the parchment 
 in two, and told the faculty they would hear from him in 
 the world. Dartmouth did hear from him in a few years 
 in his illustrious defense of her interests before the United 
 States Supreme Court. 
 
358 THE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 During the several years at Hiram, Garfield occupied the 
 pulpits of the country churches in the neighborhood every 
 Sunday. His preaching partook largely of his readings — 
 theological discussions, illustrated and adorned with histori- 
 cal reference. Reading inakes one full, but use is needed to 
 give edge and value to the knowledge. A mind crowded 
 with a mass of knowledge often grows more unwieldy than 
 it was on half the amount of learning. Henry Clay coined 
 the fruits of his reading and study each day by turning it 
 into the mint of a half hour's extemporaneous speech. 
 Ever afterwards each nugget of information thus preserved 
 lay on its proper shelf in his mind ready to do dut}' on call. 
 One year of constant study on one line of thought without 
 voicing the gathered instruction is too much. To read and 
 study upon some special subject each day, and vitalize it 
 each night with an earnest discussion is a process of mental 
 digestion that will produce the very best possible results. 
 Discussion in a class is within limits and bound by restraints.. 
 The glorious liberty of one's own chamber or barn lets the- 
 impressioned thoughts go free, and gives the world a 
 Demosthenes and a Calhoun. Garfield, with his immature 
 mind and restricted education, was under such a system of 
 study, able to address his congregations with an instruct- 
 iveness that the ordinary experience of years as a speaker 
 does not give. This kind of study proved its own incentive. 
 It whet to a hungry appetite each hour of reading, and 
 helped the mind to avoid the slow dawning of years by 
 making application of its value at once. The remarkable 
 breadth and range of knowledge, from wb.ich Garfield's- 
 thought flowed in his public addresses, is attributable to 
 this instantaneous assimilation of all the information he 
 received. 
 
JAMES A. GARFIELD. 359 
 
 Out of this growing experience he began to realize that 
 he needed a broader field for his college life than a village 
 institute afforded. He felt the want of libraries and learned 
 men, and a larger contact with the world. There is a ben- 
 eficial schooling acquired by changed associations: the 
 mingling with people who live and act differently from the 
 accustomed companions is a valuable part of a real educa- 
 tion. Toward the institutions of the East he now turned 
 his thoughts. He resolved to leave the State of Ohio. His 
 friends were anxious for him to attend the splendid college 
 founded and presided over by Alexander Campbell, at Beth- 
 any, Virginia. It was the representative school of his 
 church. Its theological advantages, under the presence of 
 Doctor Campbell, were confessedly superior. But he 
 argued, " I am the son of Disciple parents. I am one 
 myself, and have had but little acquaintance with people of 
 other views; and having always lived in the West I think it 
 will make me more liberal, both in my religious and general 
 views and sentiments to go into a new circle where I shall 
 be under new influence. These considerations lead me to 
 go to some New England college." He wrote a number of 
 letters to Eastern colleges and finally decided to attend 
 Williams College, at Massachusetts, because President Hop- 
 kins wrote him a personal letter and said, " if you come 
 here we shall be glad to do what we can for you." He said 
 that seemed like kind of a friendly grasp of the hand. 
 
 In September, 1854, now twenty-three years of age, he 
 presented himself Jaefore the faculty of Williams College for 
 examination. He passed to the junior year without ques- 
 tion. In three years time he had prepared himself for the 
 junior class. He had accomplished the usual work of six 
 years. The achievement is remarkable in view of the large 
 
360 THE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 amount of other labor, physical and mental, which he had 
 performed during that period, in order to secure his board, 
 clothing and tuition. He had entered the college with the 
 burden of a debt of five hundred dollars. The money 
 saved at Hiram was not sufficient for the new course. His 
 uncle loaned him the amount required. With it he saw the 
 night of struggle giving way and a completed education 
 within his reach. He had his life insured in favor of his 
 uncle so that if death came he would owe no man anything. 
 If he lived" he knew he would some day be able to repay it. 
 
 He made an effort to teach evening writing school in the 
 vicinity of Williamstown, but no considerable sum of money 
 was earned. He dressed very plainly and cheaply, and was 
 compelled to economize in every way — in his board, his 
 books, and in his traveling expenses — in order to make the 
 small sum he had secured last until his graduation. 
 
 He was the humblest of the pupils. He was very poor, 
 and brave enough to frankly acknowledge it. There is no 
 more striking proof of the fact, so little understood, that 
 college life is but a small part of the discipline and learning 
 necessary to a liberal education than is found in the history 
 of college classes. How often do we find that the brilliant, 
 honored and influential students sink almost immediately out 
 of sight when they leave the college halls and enter the 
 breakers of actual life; while the silent, thoughtful one, 
 whose presence in the class is scarcel}' remembered, comes 
 conspicuously to the surface, in civil or military life, and 
 soon towers above all his school-daj' associates. Sometimes, 
 in the annals of scientific discovery or of national leadership, 
 the popular and brilliant college student is found. Once in 
 a while the valedictorian is again heard of in the vanguard 
 of civilization, with the great and the good; but the raritv 
 
JAMES A. GARFIELD. 361 
 
 of it is a curious and sad feature connected with students' 
 lives. It may be that the honors they received led them to 
 the fatal conclusion that at their graduation they knew all 
 that men need to learn, and stopping, they were soon left 
 behind and beneath by the less successful candidates for 
 class-day honors. Garfield's student days appear to have 
 impressed him as but a portion of a whole life of study, and 
 he conducted himself as if his graduation was to make no 
 break in his pursuit of knowledge. Beginning it as if for a 
 long journey, on which it would be unwise at first to hurry, 
 he left the college as one who has passed the first mile, and 
 looks back upon his progress with satisfaction and forward 
 with unflinching determination. He does not appear to have 
 been actuated by any desire for fame; neither had he any 
 confidence in his ability to acquire riches. He purposed to 
 do quiet, solid work, either as a preacher or teacher, and 
 pictured to himself a life of studious quiet and religious 
 peace. 
 
 In his college days his characteristic simplicity was 
 noticed and commended. He had a Puritan sense of his 
 own worth, and was determined to appear to possess no 
 more than his actual acquirements would warrant. If, for 
 any reason, he was unprepared to recite his lesson, he 
 frankly said so, and never manufactured an excuse nor bor- 
 rowed a '' pony " or key. He was dressed in a homespun 
 suit of clothes, and his language was touched with the bor- 
 der community provincialisms. He was at times subjected 
 to petty indignities which were deeply anno3'ing to his 
 sensitive nature. Much of this might have been avoided if 
 he had entered a lower class; but entering an upper class, 
 from whose members rusticity had long since disappeared, 
 he was considered a legitimate target for the students' sly 
 
362 THE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 wit and sarcasm. After a few months his commanding^ 
 abilities began to assert themselves. Mediocrity was sinking 
 to the bottom and ability was coming to the top. In the 
 class-room he was exhibiting himself as an accurate scholar, 
 and his large brain seemed packed with information of every 
 sort and all ready for use at a moment's notice. President 
 Hopkins became warmly attached to him, and before the 
 year closed he was recognized as the most profound student 
 in the college. 
 
 The librar}' afforded him his coveted desire. He revelled 
 in its books. Up to this time he had never seen a copy of 
 Shakspeare and had never been privileged to read a line in 
 the books of Walter Scott, Dickens or Thackeray. He read 
 more books in that library than any other student during 
 his stay at college. The following summer was spent at 
 Prestonkill, New York, in the family of a preacher in the 
 Christian church, and the time was occupied in teaching 
 writing school. During a visit to Troy, which was but six 
 miles distant, he became acquainted with the directors of 
 the public schools of that city, and was one day surprised by 
 an offer of a position as assistant teacher at a salary far 
 beyond his expectations of what he could earn on his return 
 to Ohio after his graduation. The proposition received his 
 grave attention. If he accepted it he could pay his debts, 
 marry the young lady to whom he was engaged, and live a 
 life of comparative comfort in an Eastern city. But he could 
 not finish his college course. He settled the question in a 
 conversation. Walking on a hill called Mount Olympus 
 with the gentleman who had made the proposition, Gartield 
 said to him: "You are not Satan and I am not Jesus, but 
 we are upon the mountain and you have tempted me power- 
 fully. I think I may say, 'get thee behind me.' I am poor, 
 
JAMES A. QARFIELD. 363. 
 
 and the salary would soon pay m}' debts and place me in a 
 position of independence. But there are two objections. I 
 could not accomplish my resolution to complete a college 
 course and should be crippled intellectually for life. Then, 
 my roots are all fixed in Ohio, where people know me and I 
 know them, and this transplanting might not succeed as well 
 in the long run as to go back home and work for smaller 
 
 That resolution, tixed years before, to acquire an educa- 
 tion, no matter what delay and sacrifice it might encounter, 
 was still enthroned, and great as his wants were he was 
 willing to continue to sacrifice that he might accomplish his 
 determination. Paliss}' held a purpose steadfastly through 
 every sacrifice and triumphed in the end. Garfield trampled 
 on the temptation to relinquish his resolution, turned his face 
 as flint to endure more sacrifice, and without the hope that 
 his achievement would bring with it more than the reward 
 of its possession. 
 
 In the fall of 1855 Garfield returned to Williams College. 
 He was elected one of the editors of the Williams Quarterly ^ 
 and early distinguished its pages with a series of essays here- 
 tofore unknown to college literature. His writings were 
 marked by the characteristics of his own nature; the)' were 
 thoughtful, comprehensive, reverent. One of these papers 
 was entitled The Province of History. His idea was that 
 history is to show the unfolding of a great providential plan 
 in the affairs of men and nations. In the course of the arti- 
 cle he said: 
 
 " For ever}- village. State and nation, there is an aggre- 
 gate of native talent which God has given, and by which, 
 together with his Providence, he leads the nation on, and 
 thus leads the world. In the light of these truths, we affirm 
 
364 THE OENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 that no man can understand the histor}- of any nation, or of 
 the world, who does not recognize in it the power of God, 
 and behold His stately goings forth as He walks among the 
 nations. It is His hand that is moving the vast superstruc- 
 ture of human history, and, though but one of the windows 
 were unfinished, like that of the Arabian palace, 3'et all 
 the powers of earth could never complete it without the aid 
 of the di\-ine architect. To emplo}- another figure the 
 world's history is a divine poem, of which the history of 
 every nation is a canto, and every man a word. Its strains 
 have been pealing along down the centuries, and though there 
 have been mingled the discord of roaring cannon and dying 
 men, yet to the Christian philosopher and historian — the 
 humble listener — there has been a divine melod}- running 
 through the song, which speaks of hope and halcyon days 
 to come. The record of every orphan's sigh, of every 
 widow's prayer, of every noble deed, of every honest heart- 
 throb for the right, is swelling that gentle strain; and when, 
 at last, the great end is attained, when the lost image of God 
 is restored to the human soul, when the church anthem can 
 be pealed forth without a discordant note, then will angels 
 join in the chorus, and all the sons of God again shout for 
 
 joy." 
 
 This profound faith in a providential plan, " according to 
 which history unfolds itself, and events and men are con- 
 trolled," is seen here for the first time in Garfield's faith. 
 He avowed himself later as a disbeliever in predestination. 
 He recognized Deity as having the ascendency in the con- 
 trol of all national and human aflairs, but that men could 
 refuse to co-operate with that purpose and thwart its opera- 
 tions. This faith had a peculiar and controlling influence 
 on his life. Confidence in destiny has proved a motive of 
 
JAMES A. GARFIELD. 365 
 
 superior power on the lives of many of the world's eminent 
 actors. When the ship was laboring in the storm and all 
 on board had gi\en up hope, Caasar was calm, and said, 
 "Fear not, you carry Cgesar and his fortune." They 
 attribute their career to a superimposed destiny. Napoleon 
 called himself "The Child of Destiny." Mohammed had 
 an unflinching contidence in his fate. When such a faith 
 possesses one he is likely to undertake enterprises that com- 
 mon mortals would pale before, and the very heroism of his 
 self-assurance helps him on to victory. Men ordinarily do 
 not have natures broad enough, and con\ictions strong 
 enough, to make them feel that the ^•er3• Eternal has ordered 
 his battalions on their side. A heart}* faith in one's destiny 
 along his chosen line of life, is worth, at the outset, twenty 
 years of experience in the calling. 
 
 In 1855 the Kansas civil war was raging. The entire 
 country was aroused over the slavery question, and Kansas 
 had become its battle-field. The member of Congress from 
 that district addressed the citizens of Williamstown one 
 evening. Garfield and a class-mate attended the speaking. 
 The orator discussed chiefly the great slavery problem. As 
 the students passed out of the house, Garfield said, " This 
 subject is entirely new to me ; I am going to know all about 
 it." The following day he sent for documents on the sub- 
 ject and gave them a careful study. On June 17th, 1856, 
 when the Republican party was born, Garfield was ready to 
 make his offerings at its manger. 
 
 When the news of Fremont's nomination was received, 
 the Republican students joined with the citizens in a ratifica- 
 tion meeting; after several speakers, Garfield was called on. 
 His speech was an astonishment and surprise, even to those 
 who had heard him in the literary debates; he spoke like a 
 
366 THE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 politician of mature experience; his enthusiastic eloquence 
 electrified the audience, and his sitting down was the signal 
 for rounds of applause. The old men present said he was 
 a politician and would surely go to Congress. When he 
 worked at carpentering his aptness for the work brought the 
 prophecy that he would be a carpenter; when he taught 
 classes at Hiram his success caused the president to say he 
 would be a college professor; when he preached, it was 
 universally conceded he had a call to the ministry; and now 
 when he makes a political address, his hearers at once pro- 
 nounce him a politician, and prophesy a seat in Congress. 
 He was developing in a marked degree in all directions. 
 He possessed no star of genius; he was growing into a sym- 
 metrical and well rounded manhood, which is vastly better 
 than an}' single phenomenal gift. President Hopkins says: 
 " One point in Garfield's course of study, worthy of remark, 
 was its evenness. There was nothing startling at an}' one 
 time, and no special preference for any one study. There 
 was a large general capacity applicable to any subject, and 
 sound sense. What he did was done by honest and avowed 
 work. There was no pretense of genius or alternation of 
 spasmodic effort and of rest, but a satisfactory accomplish- 
 ment in all directions of what was undertaken; hence there 
 was a steady, healthful, onward and upward progress." Mr. 
 Garfield graduated at Williams College in the spring ©f 
 1856. Immediately on his return home he was elected to a 
 professorship at Hiram ; from that time until 1861 he occupied 
 the social position in the community of a minister of the 
 Gospel, preaching every Sunday and taking an active part 
 in the conferences and conventions of his church. These 
 5rears of school labors at Hiram bound the hearts of hun- 
 dreds of his pupils to his, and they spoke of him in terms 
 
JAMES A. GARFIELD. 367 
 
 of almost extrav-agant praise. He soon swelled the attend- 
 ance to more than four hundred. 
 
 His remarkable success was, in part, because he took an 
 interest in the welfare of each student and stood on terms of 
 familiar, yet dignified, acquaintance with them all. His 
 activities during this period were immense. Every pupil 
 felt his individuality; in the management of the school, he 
 surcharged the institution with his personalit}'. After a 
 stump-speech in 1877, he. made a talk to a friend on his 
 college work, giving his estimate of the value of an educa- 
 tion, and how he would encourage young men to continue 
 their studies. As that conversation is so rich in its sugges- 
 tions to help the struggling youth on to success, a portion of 
 it is quoted. "I have taken more solid comfort in the 
 thing itself, and received more recompense and stimulus in 
 after life from capturing'young men for an education, than 
 from anything else in the world. As I look back over my 
 life thus far," he continued, " I think of nothing that so fills 
 me with pleasure as the planning of these sieges, the revolv- 
 ing in my mind of plans for scaling the walls of the 
 fortress, of gaining access to the inner soul-life, and at last 
 seeing the besieged party won to a fuller appreciation of 
 himself, to a higher conception of life and to the part he is 
 to bear in it. The principal guards which I have found it 
 necessary to overcome in gaining these victories, are the 
 parents or guardians of the young men themselves. I par- 
 ticularly remember two such instances of capturing young 
 men from their parents. Both of those boys are to-day 
 educators of wide reputation — one president of a college, 
 the other high in the ranks of graded school managers. 
 Neither, in my opinion, would to-day have seen above the 
 commonest walks of life unless I or some one else had 
 
368 THE GENIUS OF INDUSTJiT. 
 
 captured liini. There is a period in every young man's life 
 when a \er\- small thing will turn him one way or the other. 
 He is distrustful of himself and uncertain as to what he 
 should do; his parents are poor, perhaps, and argue that he 
 has more education than they ever obtained, and that it is 
 enough. These parents are sometimes a little too an.xious 
 in regard to what their boys are going to do when they get 
 through their college course. They talk to the }'oung men 
 too much, and I have noticed that the boy who will make 
 the best man is sometimes most ready to doubt himself. I 
 always remember the turning point in my own life, and pity 
 a young man at this stage from the bottom of my heart. 
 One of the young men I refer to came to me on the closing- 
 day of the spring term and bade me good-b}-e at ni}- study; 
 I noticed that he awkwardly lingered after I expected him 
 to go, and had turned to my writing again. ' I suppose you 
 will be back again in the fall, Henry,' I said, to fill in the 
 vacuum. He did not answer, and, turning towards him, I 
 noticed that his eyes were filled with tears. 
 
 He at length managed to stammer out: 'No, I am not 
 coming back to Hiram any more; father says I have got 
 education enough, and that he needs me to work on the 
 farm; that education don't help along the farmers any.' 
 
 'Is your father here.'*' I asked, almost as much aflected 
 by the statement as the boy himself He was a peculiarly 
 bright boy, one of those strong, awkward, bashful, blonde, 
 large headed fellows, such as make men. He was not a 
 prodigy b}" any means, but he knew what work meant, and 
 when he had won a thing by a true endeavor, he knew its 
 value. 
 
 ' Yes, father is here, and is taking my things home for 
 good,' said the boy, more affected than ever. 
 
JAMES A. GARFIELD. _ 369 
 
 'Well, don't feel badly,' I said. 'Please tell him that 
 Mr. Garfield would like to see him at his study before he 
 leaves the village. Don't tell him that it is about you, but 
 that I w^ant to see him.' 
 
 In the course of a half hour the old gentleman, a robust 
 specimen of the Western Reserve Yankee, came into the 
 room, and awkwardly sat down. I knew something of the 
 man before, and I thought I knew how to begin; I shot 
 right at the bull's eye immediatel}'. 
 
 ' So you have come to take Henry home with you, have 
 you?' 
 
 The old gentleman answered 'yes.' 
 
 'I sent for you because I wanted to have a little talk 
 with you about Henry's future. He is coming back again 
 in the fall, I hope.' 
 
 'Well, I think not; I don't reckon I can afford to send him 
 any more. He's got eddication enough for a farmer already, 
 and I notice when they git too much they sorter git lazy. 
 Yer eddicated farmers are humbugs. Henry's got so fur 
 now that he'd rother have his head in a book than be work- 
 ing. He don't take no interest in the stock, nor in the farm 
 improvements. Everj'body else in this world is dependent 
 on the farmers, and I think we've got too many eddicated 
 fellows settin' around now, for the farmers to support.' 
 
 ' I am sorry to hear you talk so,' I said ; ' for really I con- 
 sider Henry one of the brightest and most faithful students 
 I ever had. I have taken a very deep interest in him. 
 What I wanted to say to you was, that the matter of educat- 
 ing him has largely been a constant outgo thus far, but, if he 
 is permitted to come next fall term, he will be far enough 
 advanced so he can teach school in winter, and begin to help 
 himself and you along. He can earn very little on the farm 
 
370 TEE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 in winter, and he can get very good wages teaching. How 
 does that strike ye? ' 
 
 The idea was a new and a good one to him. He simply 
 remarked, 'do you really think he can teach next winter.'^' 
 
 'I should think so, certainly,' I replied, 'but if he cannot 
 do so then, he can in a short time anyhow.' 
 
 ' Wal, I'll think on it; he wants to come back bad enough, 
 and I guess FU have to let him. I never thought of it in 
 that way afore.' 
 
 I knew I was safe; it was the financial question that 
 troubled the old gentleman, and I knew that would be over- 
 come when Henry got to teaching and could earn his money 
 himself. He would then be so far along, too, he could fight 
 his own battles. He came all right the next fall, and after 
 finishing at Hiram, graduated at an Eastern college. 
 
 The other man I spoke of was a diflerent case. I knew 
 that this youth was going to leave mainly for financial reas- 
 ons, also, but I understood his father well enough to know 
 the matter must be managed with extreme delicacy. He 
 was a man of very strong religious convictions, and I thought 
 he might be approached from that side of his character; so 
 when I got the letter of the son telling me, in the saddest 
 language he could muster, that he could not come back to 
 school any more, but must be content to be simply a farmer, 
 much as it was against his inclination, I revolved the mat- 
 ter in my mind, and decided to send an appointment to preach 
 in the little country church where the old gentleman attended. 
 I took for a subject the parable of the talents, and in the 
 course of ni}- discourse dwelt specially upon the fact that 
 children were the talents which had been intrusted to parents, 
 nod, if these talents were not increased and developed, there 
 was a fearful trust neglected. After church, I called upon 
 
JAMES A. OAMFIELD. 371 
 
 the parents of the boy. I was besieging, and I saw that 
 something was weighing upon their minds. At length the 
 subject of the discourse was taken up and gone over again, 
 and, in due course, the young inan himself was discussed, 
 and I gave ni}' opinion that he should by all means be 
 encouraged and assisted in taking a thorough course of 
 study. I gave my opinion that there was nothing more 
 important to the parent than to do all in his power for the 
 children. The next term the young man again appeared on 
 Hiram Hill, and remained until graduation." 
 
 In 1858 Professor Garfield was elected President of Hiram 
 College. Feeling now that he was secure in a living, he 
 married Miss Lucretia Rudolph, to whom he had been 
 engaged five years. They commenced their life in a hum- 
 ble way; his wife had abundant common sense, and was will- 
 ing to make her life conform to their financial circumstances. 
 He was singularly happy in both mother and wife. His 
 mother was the stay and guide of his youth, and she never 
 forsook her station in his inaturer 3'ears; his wife in her 
 industry, economy and intellectual strength became his help- 
 mate, with whose advent self-sacrificing struggle and adver- 
 sity moved to the rear, and the era of prosperity and fame 
 began. 
 
 Shortl}' after his marriage he began the study of law, all 
 unknown to his friends, pursuing his studies at home as he did 
 other reading. He possessed an ability to study day after 
 day of which few men are capable. It was about this time 
 he held his famous debate on science and the Bible with 
 Professor Denton. The out-come of the debate was a sig- 
 nal triumph for President Garfield, and exhibited again the 
 unusual range of his mental acquirements. He had formed 
 the habit of stud3'ing at odd hours and places, filling in the 
 
372 THE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 entire day with some profitable matter. In one year, by 
 occupying his odd hours in stud}ing science as it relates to 
 the Bible, he was enabled to meet and overthrow the cham- 
 pion of infidelit}- in his State. By the use of these spare 
 times he completed in two years the appointed course of 
 legal preparation for admission to the bar. Without any 
 course whatever except the garnered half-hours spent in mis- 
 cellaneous religious reading, and one chapter in the Bible 
 read each da}-, he was preaching every Sunday, and was 
 regarded as the ablest expounder of theolog}' in the Western 
 Reserve. This was not so n>uch the result of genius as it was 
 the result of a splendid gift of application. 
 
 He possessed Leonardo De Vinci's capacity of knowing 
 all things well. Many students know a little of many things; 
 this smattering seems to daze the mind. They cannot com- 
 prehend anything clearly. A resolution to learn a subject 
 followed with a puny effort, had better never been made. 
 " Drink deep at the Pyrean spring, or not drink at all."' 
 Such minds should ha\e the courage to be ignorant of many 
 things that the}' may know a few things perfectly. It is not 
 enough to have the knack to save every leisure hour, and fill 
 it with a systematic line of stud}', having the book always 
 at hand ; there must also be the health to endure this unceas- 
 ing strain. If the health gives way under it, it must be 
 relinquished until there is a complete restoration of the vital 
 forces. If the constitution becomes once undermined, then 
 the business for the remainder of life is to keep in sufficient 
 repair, that even the odd hours can be given to the life call- 
 ing. If Edison had suffered from indigestion, he would 
 never have revolutionized the world's use of electricity. If 
 Grant had had the dyspepsia, he would not have had the 
 pluck to say he would fight it out on this line if it took all 
 
JAMES A. GARFIELD. 373 
 
 summer. If Brougham had not slept well, he could not have 
 been fresh for his duty on eighteen hours in bed, after hav- 
 ing been at his desk in the Foreign Office for three days and 
 nights. 
 
 About this time Garfield was growing interested in poli- 
 tics. He was looked upon as the rising man in his part of 
 the State. The people naturally turned to him for leader- 
 ship in the Senatorial Convention of 1859, in his and the 
 adjoining county. Much difficulty was experienced in select- 
 ing a suitable candidate. At length a member of the con- 
 vention arose and said: "Gentlemen: I can name a man 
 whose standing, character, ability and industry, will carry 
 the district. It is President Garfield, of Hiram School. '' 
 He was at once nominated by acclamation. He was now 
 beset by a torrent of opposition from his church members to 
 defeat his acceptance of the nomination. A yearl}' meeting 
 of the church occurred within a few days; the leaders from 
 far and near were in attendance, and Garfield going off into 
 the vain struggle of worldly ambition was much debated. 
 There were a few members who thought a man could be a 
 Christian and a politician, too. When the President arrived, 
 he heard his solicitous friends kindly, and then said: " I 
 believe I can enter political life and retain my integrity, 
 manhood and religion. I believe there is vastly more need 
 of manly men in politics than of preachers. Mother is at 
 Jason Robbins'. I will go there and talk with her; if she will 
 give her consent I will accept the nomination." His mother 
 heard his statement, and in her reply, said : " I have had a 
 hope and desire, ever since you joined the church, that 3'ou 
 would be a preacher. I have been happy in }'our success as 
 a preacher, and lately had looked upon it as settled, but if 
 you can retain your manhood and religion in political life, 
 
374 THE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 and believe 3"ou can do the most good there, 3'ou have my 
 full consent." With this answer as his assurance, he accepted 
 the nomination, and placed his foot on the first round in the 
 aspiring ladder. 
 
 He was elected and at once took high rank in the Legisla- 
 ture as a man well informed on the subjects of legislation, 
 and effective and powerful in debate. He seemed always 
 prepared to speak, but it was because every measure intro- 
 duced into the Senate received his thorough consideration. 
 Like Thiers, he had always mastered the subject before the 
 debate arrived. He was of commanding size, with a deep, 
 mellow voice. He would often become aroused in discus- 
 sion, but never angry. He was never known to lose his 
 balance. His genial, warm-hearted nature was inanifest in 
 his very hand-shaking of an acquaintance. Cox, Monroe 
 and Garfield formed the triumvirate of the Legislature. 
 Garfield was the youngest of the three. But he was not 
 regarded as a politician. He was looked on as a teacher 
 and preacher. His earnestness, his thoughtfulness and sin- 
 cerity made him a conspicuous object for legislative esteem, 
 with both his political friends and opponents. He seemed 
 to care nothing for popularity, and strove only to do his 
 dut}-. He hated every form of unfairness and oppression; 
 hence the disinterested and vigorous interest he took in 
 many measures, opposing his party to the apparent sacrifice 
 of his political standing. He may have been ambitious; if 
 so, it was bounded b}' the limits of duty, for he never sup- 
 ported a measure in order to capture the voters. He never 
 made a speech for mere effect, and by his course said to the 
 world, " If )-ou need my services you must call for them." 
 The truckling demagogue seldom ever wins any place of 
 real worth. The great public eye seems to be well nigh 
 
JAMES A. GARFIELD. 375 
 
 omniscient. It perceives men's motives even if they be hid 
 under the cloak of some worthy endeavor. It never fails to 
 single out the true from the false, and in the long run the 
 men who are truthful, sincere and unyielding in their integ- 
 rity receive the laurels. 
 
 Garfield himself once discussed this thought to his 
 students, and the gi-eat common sense of his nature acted on 
 his own advice. He said: "One of the passages in Pas- 
 cal says the true way to study history is to treat the whole 
 human race as one colossal, immortal man, forever living, 
 always learning; who sometimes stumbles and falls, but who 
 in the long run always advances in intelligence and civiliza- 
 tion. This thought of Pascal's is one of remarkable beauty 
 and value. I have often dwelt over it, and carried it much 
 farther than it is carried by the philosopher. The people of 
 a republic like ours are peculiarly like a single great indi- 
 vidual man, full of passions — prejudices often — but with a 
 great heart, despising anything like show or pretense, and 
 always striving forward in a. general right direction. The 
 popular verdict, expressed as the voice of this giant man, is 
 sometimes wrong, but in the course of time it assumes the 
 right tendency again. This individual pays but little atten- 
 tion to infinite things, unless there is something very peculiar 
 about them. He casts his ox-like eye, in a sort of slow and 
 easy way, along the horizon, and ascertains about where a 
 great many men are. If any of these men who appear 
 before his general vision make any special effort to attract 
 his attention he probabl}^ smiles a sort of a contemptuous 
 smile and passes on. Men often attempt to attract his 
 attention, some one way and others another. If the old 
 fellow once fastens his eye on a man or woman from some 
 legitimate act or course of action of his or hers, that person 
 
376 TUB GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 has that thing happen to him known as fame. If the old 
 fellow's eye is caused to rest on a person from some out- 
 landish caper, performed on purpose to catch his eye, that 
 man is only notorious. The way to make tlie old giant 
 take special notice of a man of worth is not to pa}- much 
 attention to him, but keep on one's course regardless of 
 whether he sees or not." 
 
 To Garfield the election to the Senate was a piece of good 
 fortune. It enlarged his field of practical observation, and 
 gave him a valuable acquaintance with the public men of 
 Ohio. It gave him a deeper sense of the importance of legal 
 studies. It gave him a glimpse of how States are built. He 
 was prepared for this opportunity when it came. He went 
 forth from the Legislative halls the leader of the radical 
 trium\irate. He discussed matters of State with the same 
 unction and sincerity that he had preached the gospel. As 
 a consequence the Governor of the State looked upon the 
 youthful statesman — now twenty-eight years of age — as 
 the safest and ablest counselor he had in the Legislature. 
 He had had an opportunity to exhibit his wares, and they 
 were found of value in the market. 
 
 It is i-elated of Barr}- that when a mere boy he performed 
 a journey from Cork to Dublin on foot, with his first picture 
 — the conversion of the Pagans by St. Patrick. It was 
 placed in a remote corner of one of the exhibition rooms, 
 where it was unlikely that any eye would rest upon it. It 
 did not, however, escape the observation of the great 
 Edmund Burke. He inquired of the secretary the name of 
 the painter. "I don't know," said that gentleman, "but it 
 was brought here by that little bo}*," pointing to Barr}-, 
 who was modestly standing near his work. '' Where did 
 you get this picture, ni}' boy?" said Burke, "who painted 
 
JAMES A. GARFIELD. 377 
 
 it?" "It is mine," said the boy, "I painted it." "Oh, 
 that is impossible!" said Burke, glancing at the poorly clad 
 youth. Burke called the attention of others to the picture 
 and to the lad. As a result Barry was soon lifted to wealth 
 -and fame. 
 
 A discovery of one's own powers is sometimes made b}' 
 hearing or seeing for the first time something that awakens 
 that dormant element within their breast. One of Eng- 
 land's most remarkable singers had her " gift " to arise in 
 this way: Her mother had taken her to hear some cele- 
 brated singer, and the young girl, when she returned home, 
 imagined that her voice reached as high a note as the cele- 
 brated singer's. It was even so, and a course of training 
 developed a great soprano. It is at rare intervals that one 
 is so possessed of power that they rise in spite of opportuni- 
 ties. Pascal was such a mathematical prodigy that even the 
 keeping of all books on that science secreted from him was 
 not able to hinder his progress and keep him from discover- 
 ing for himself the great laws of mathematics. So Michael 
 Angelo needed no instructor; he was a master of art while 
 yet a lad. It chanced that when Domenico was painting 
 the great chapel of Santa Maria Novella, he one day went 
 out, and INIichael Angelo then set himself to draw the scaf- 
 folding with some trestles', the various utensils of the art and 
 some of the young men who were working there. Domenico, 
 having returned and seen the drawing of Michael Angelo, 
 exclaimed, " This boy knows more than I do." Such had 
 been the originality and novelty of manner in which the 
 judgment of the boy had directed the outlines of the work. 
 Such as these possess phenomenal gifts, whose first work is 
 as good as their last. But in statesmanship, oratory and 
 
378 THE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 the practical callings of life, these gifts cannot attain in their 
 singular development. 
 
 In 1861 Garfield was yet a member of the Senate. He 
 had not been a considerable factor in wielding the great 
 issues in which Lincoln and Douglas had taken so promi- 
 nent a part. With convictions as radical as theirs he had 
 been moving on the paths that lead to "peace." But when 
 the alarm of war was sounded, he was ready for the tray 
 on the instant. When the President's call for seventy-five 
 thousand men was announced to the Ohio Senate, Senator 
 Garfield was instantly on his feet, and moved that " twenty 
 thousand troops and three millions of money " should be at 
 once voted as Ohio's quota! He immediately illustrated 
 his speech by offering his own services in any capacity 
 Governor Dennison might choose. While waiting a wider 
 field he occupied himself in organizing the militia. Gov- 
 ernor Dennison soon offered him the position of Lieutenant- 
 Colonel; this would take him into the field and give him 
 direct participation in the war. While his patriotism was 
 prepared to advocate extreme measures for the Union, yet 
 when he was to become a leader in battles and their carnage, 
 it was so foreign to his whole nature that he went home to 
 quietly consult and think over his duty. In a few da3-s he 
 wrote to a friend: "I regard my life as given to the 
 country. I am only anxious to make as much of it as possi- 
 ble before the mortgage on it is foreclosed." At the same 
 sitting he wrote to the Governor his acceptance of the 
 offered position. He was soon ordered, under Buell, to Ken- 
 tucky. There was a deep importance attached to this expe- 
 dition. The prize at stake was Kentucky. The Southern 
 plan was for the State to be occupied by the Confederate 
 forces and then have her secede from the Union. If Hum- 
 
JAMES A. OASFIELD. 37i> 
 
 phrey Marshall's army could be driven out, secession might 
 be prevented, and the State kept in the Union. 
 
 " That is what you have to do, Colonel Garfield — drive 
 Marshall from Kentucky," said Buell to him when he 
 reported at headquarters, '' and you see how mnch depends 
 on your action. Now go to your quarters, think of it over 
 night and come here in the morning and tell me how you 
 will do it." 
 
 On his way to his hotel he bought a map of Kentucky, 
 and then shutting himself in his room, spent the night in 
 studying the geography of the country in which he was to 
 operate, and in making notes of the plan which seemed to 
 him likely to secure the objects of the campaign. On the 
 following morning he informed Buell of his plan of move- 
 ments, to which the general simply replied, "You will 
 receive your orders at six o'clock — be ready to move." 
 Promptly at the hour his order came, embracing with a 
 slight modification his plan submitted that morning. 
 
 The young Lieutenant-Colonel was given command of a 
 brigade, and placed in charge of a most important campaign 
 before he had had experience even in drilling a regiment in 
 the manual of arms. That an experienced strategist, as 
 Buell, should have periled so much to a commander fresh 
 from civil life, seems unexplainable. Colonel Garfield came 
 upon the forces of Marshall in the vicinity of Middle Creek. 
 By a series of maneucevers that were Napoleonic, in their 
 strategy and rapidity of execution, he put the enemy 
 under a false impression of his whereabouts, and in a vast 
 over-estimation of his numbers. At the critical juncture he 
 fell upon him, as the French upon the allied kings at Auster- 
 litz, and before sunset saw him flying southward, and Ken- 
 tucky was saved. 
 
380 THE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 It was a wonderful battle in its results, although the ar- 
 mies engaged were small. Edmund Kirke said of it: "In 
 the history of the late war there is not another like it. 
 Measured by the forces engaged, the valor diplayed and the 
 results that followed, it thi'ows into the shade the achiev- 
 ments of even that mighty host that saved the nation. 
 Eleven hundred foot-sore and weary men, without cannon, 
 charged up. a rock}' hill, over stumps, over stones, over 
 fallen trees, over high entrenchments, right into the face of 
 five thousand fresh troops with twelve pieces of artiller}'." 
 Speaking of this engagement, Garfield said, after he had 
 gained a wider experience in war, "If I had been an oflicer 
 of more experience I probably should not have made the 
 attack. As it was, having gone into the army with the 
 notion that fighting was our business, I didn't know any 
 better." 
 
 Promply on the report of this battle reaching Washington, 
 Garfield was created a Brigadier-General. Given his choice 
 to take command of a brigade, or become chief of staff to 
 Rosecrans, he chose the latter; he felt himself to be a gen- 
 eral only in position, not in knowledge of military tactics. 
 He would then have counsel of a superior tactician, and could 
 become a student of the science. He distinguished himself 
 in the councils of Rosecrans by never making a mistake in 
 his judgment. He seemed to be able to plan a campaign 
 with a hundred thousand men as successfully as he had man- 
 aged four hundred students at Hiram. 
 
 The great day of Chicamauga came. Discouraged and 
 baffled, Rosecrans decided to leave the field. Garfield plead 
 with him to continue the fight and form a junction with the 
 other wing of the army, in which case they could overthrow 
 the enemy, but the general persisted he could not form the 
 
JAMES A. GARFIELD. 381 
 
 junction, and " the enemy's left could not be turned." He 
 then begged Rosecrans to permit him to go and join 
 Thomas, who still persisted in holding the enemy in check. 
 To this consent was given, and» Garfield dashed off with 
 two faithful men along the very road he said the junction 
 with Thomas could be made, and reached that general, told 
 him of the defeat of the right wing under Rosecrans, and 
 enabled Thomas to mass his forces on the enepi3''s left, and 
 when night closed was master of the field. 
 
 In a few weeks Garfield was nominated for Congress in 
 his home district. On consulting Rosecrans, that generous 
 otficer told him the war would continue for some time, and 
 that the army needed men in Congress who had acquaint- 
 ance with military affairs. " Let me give you a piece of 
 advice," he continued, "when you go to Congress, be care- 
 ful about what you say. Don't talk too much, but when 
 you do talk, speak to the point. Be true to 30urself and 
 you will make your tnark before the countr}'." A few days 
 after this, he was promoted to a Major-Generalship, " for 
 gallant and meritorious conduct at the battle of Chica- 
 mauga." He had before him a brilliant military future, and 
 a IMajor-General's salary was double that of a Congressman. 
 He needed the salary, for he was poor. But the election had 
 taken place in the meantime, and he had been chosen to 
 Congress by a vast majority. Army officers urged his 
 acceptance of the election, and under the belief that the 
 path of duty and greatest usefulness lay in the direction of 
 national legislation, he resigned his commission on the 5th 
 of December, 1863, and proceeded at once to Washington. 
 He was placed upon the Militar}' Committee the same ses- 
 sion. His first term in Congress was signaled by earnest 
 work on his various committees. He became a recognized 
 
382 THE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 debater at an early day. His knowledge of national affairs 
 seemed to be as mature as that of the oldest statesman. 
 The members of both Houses were not long in discovering 
 that a fresh, strong, intellectual force had moved into their 
 midst, that was destined to make its mark upon the politics 
 of the country. They sought his acquaintance, and before 
 he had been long in Washington he had the advantage of 
 the best society in the capital. 
 
 When his Congressional convention met in 1864, many of 
 the delegates hesitated to vote for Garfield, alleging that 
 he had written the Wade-Davis manifesto against President 
 Lincoln, or, at least, was in sympathy with it. His defeat 
 seemed evident. Entering the convention hall, he walked 
 up to the platform, planted himself firmly on it, and began 
 a speech that he must have thought would dig his own 
 grave. He told his hearers that he had not written the 
 Wade-Davis letter, but he had only one regret connected 
 with it, and that was that there was a necessity for its ap- 
 pearance. He approved the letter, defended the motives of 
 the authors, asserted his right to independence of thought 
 and action, and told the delegates that if they did not want 
 a free agent for their representative, they had better find 
 another man, for he did not desire to serve them longer. 
 
 When he had finished speaking he left the platform and 
 strode out of the hall. His very boldness had captivated 
 the convention. For an instant there was a hush of silence, 
 and then an Ashtabula delegate sprang to his feet and ex- 
 clamed, "The man that can face a convention like that 
 ought to be nominated for Congress by acclamation." It 
 only took the convention a moment to learn that it admired 
 pluck, and with a whirl of thundering applause Garfield 
 
JAMES A. OARFIELD. 383 
 
 -was renominated without a dissenting voice. He was elected 
 by twelve thousand majority. 
 
 Speaking of this incident afterwards, he said it was a 
 bold action, but he believed Mr. Wade and Mr. Davis to be 
 right, and he determined to stand by them. " This showed 
 me completely the truth of the old maxim, that honesty is 
 the best policy; and I have ever since been entirely indepen- 
 dent in my relations with the people of my district." 
 
 In 1866 he argued the L. P. Milligan conspiracy case 
 against the Government, appealed to the Supreme Court from 
 the courts of Indiana. The ablest legal talent of the nation 
 was arrayed in this celebrated trial. Garfield's argument 
 was universally conceded to be one of the profoundest efforts 
 ever made before the Supreme Court. Its parallel can 
 be found only in the advocate's plea for the Government 
 in the impeachment of Warren Hastings. It was there 
 learned that this man who had gone no farther into the bar 
 than to be admitted, and who had read law in the seclusion 
 of his own study, was one of the greatest law3'ers in the land ; 
 that arrangement of information, as it was received into its 
 proper department in his mind, and becoming accustomed 
 to it every day by extemporaneous speaking, was proving, as 
 his life developed into a larger field of action, to be a bank of 
 reserve funds, upon which he might check in times of neces- 
 sity and never exhaust. His continued practice drilled his 
 memory to furnish him, without effort, an additional argu- 
 ment, or an apt illustration whenever needed. He had 
 learned to think standing on his feet. His mind operated as 
 freely and as entirely before the august bench of the nation's 
 supreme judges as it did in addressing his brethren in a 
 country church. 
 
 He chanced to be in New York at the time of the assas- 
 
3SJ: THE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 sination of President Lincoln. His majestic utterance at the 
 critical moment before that vast mob will be celebrated in 
 the annals of the country wherever great public danger 
 threatens the Government. It is an illustration of his won- 
 derful gift in doing the right thing at the right time. An 
 eye-witness of the scene says: "It was the morning after 
 President Lincoln's assassination; the country was excited to 
 its utmost tension, and New York seemed ready for the 
 scenes of the French Revolution. The intelligence of Lin- 
 coln's murder had been flashed by the wires over the whole 
 land. The newspaper head-lines of the transaction were set 
 up in the largest type, and the high crime was on everyone's 
 tongue. Fear took possession of men's minds as to the fate 
 of the Government; for in a few hours news came on that 
 Seward's throat was cut, and that attempts had been made 
 upon the lives of others of the Government officers. Posters 
 were stuck up everywhere in great black letters, calling upon 
 the loyal citizens of New York and neighboring cities to 
 meet around the Wall Street Exchange and give expression 
 to their sentiments. It was a dark and terrible hour; what 
 might come next no one could. tell, and men spoke with 
 bated breath. Eleven o'clock, A. M., was the hour set for 
 the meeting. Fifty thousand people crowded around the 
 Exchange building. We stood in solemnity and silence,, 
 waiting for General Butler who, it was announced, had 
 started from Washington, and was expected in the city every 
 moment. Nearly a hundred generals, judges, statesmen, 
 editors, clergymen and others, were in the building waiting 
 Butler's arrival. They stepped out on to the balcony to 
 watch the fearfully solemn and swa3'ing mass of people. 
 Not a hurrah was heard, but for the most part a dead silence 
 or a deep ominous muttering ran like a rising wave up the- 
 
JAMES A. GARFIELD. 385 
 
 street toward Broadway, and again down toward the river 
 on the right. At length the batons of the police were seen 
 swinging in the air far upon the left, parting the crowd and 
 pressing it back to make way for a carriage that moved 
 slowly through the compact multitude. Suddenly the silence 
 was broken, and the cry of " Butler! Butler! Butler! " rang 
 out with tremendous and thrilling effect, and was taken up 
 by the people, but not a hurrah! Not one! It was the cry 
 of a great people asking to know how their President died. 
 The blood bounded in our veins, and the tears ran in streams 
 down our faces. How it was done I forget, but Butler was 
 pulled through and pulled up, and entered the room where 
 the committee awaited him. A broad crape a yard long 
 hung from his right arm — a terrible contrast to the thousand 
 f^ags that were waving the nation's victory in the breeze. 
 We first realized then the truth of the sad news that Lin- 
 coln was dead. The only word that Butler had for us all 
 at the first break of the silence was: " Gentlemen, he died 
 in the fullness of his fame," and as he spoke it his lips quiv- 
 ered, and the tears ran fast down his cheeks; then after a 
 few moments came the speaking, and you can imagine the 
 effect, as the crape fluttered in the wind, while his arm was 
 uplifted. Dickinson, of New York State, was fairly wild. The 
 old man leaped over the iron railing of the balcon^•, and 
 stood on the very edge overhanging the crowd, gesticulat- 
 ing in the most vehement manner, and almost bidding the 
 crowd to go forth to some deed of violence, while a by- 
 stander held on to his coat to keep him from falling over. 
 By this time the wave of popular indignation had swelled to 
 its crest. Two men lay bleeding on one of the side streets; 
 the one dead, the other next to dying; one on the pa\ement, 
 the other in the gutter. They had said a moment before 
 
386 THE GENIUS OB' INDUSTRY. 
 
 that, " Lincoln ought to have been shot along ago. " 
 Soon two long pieces of scantling stood out above the heads 
 of the crowd, crossing at the top like the letter X, and a 
 looped halter pendant from the junction. A dozen men fol- 
 lowing its slow motion through the masses, while " Ven- 
 geance! " was the cry. On the right suddenly the shout 
 arose: "The World! the World! the office of the 
 World! " and a movement of perhaps eight thousand, or 
 ten thousand, turning their faces in the direction of that 
 building, began to be executed. It was a critical moment; 
 what might come- no one could tell, did that crowd get in 
 front of that office. Police or military would have availed 
 little, or been too late. A telegram had just been received 
 from Washington, " Seward is dj'ing." Just then at that 
 juncture a man stepped forward with a small flag in his 
 hand, and beckoned to the crowd. " Another telegram from 
 Washington!" and then, in the awful stillness of the crisis, 
 taking advantage of the hesitation of the crowd, whose 
 steps had been arrested a moment, a right arm was lifted 
 skyward, and a voice, clear and steady, loud and distinct, 
 spoke out: " Fellow -citizens, clouds and darkness are 
 around about Him ! His pa\ilion is dark waters and thick 
 clouds of the skies! Justice and judgment are the establish- 
 ment of His throne! Mere}' and truth shall go before His 
 face! Fellow-citizens, God reigns, and the government at 
 Washington still lives!" 
 
 The effect was tremendous. The crowd stood riveted 
 to the ground with awe, gazing at the motionless orator and 
 thinking of God and the security of the government in that 
 hour. As the boiling wave subsides and settles to the sea 
 when some strong wind beats it down, so the tumult of the 
 people sank and became still. All took it as a Divine omen. 
 
JAMES A. GARFIELD. 387 
 
 It was a triumph of eloquence, inspired by the moment, 
 such as falls to but one man's lot and that but once in a 
 century. The genius of Webster, Choate, Everett, Seward, 
 never reached it. What might have happened had the 
 surging and maddened mob let loose none can tell. The 
 man for the crisis was on the spot, more potent than 
 Napoleon's guns at Paris. I inquired what was his name. 
 The answer came in a low whisper, " It is General Garfield, 
 of Ohio." 
 
 In the summer of 1868 he was again a candidate for 
 renomination. A great revolution had taken place in the 
 financial problem. It was more noticeable in Ohio than in 
 any other State. Garfield wrote a letter to Hinsdale, in 
 March of that }'ear, in which he said: " The State conven- 
 tion at Columbus has committed itself to some financial 
 doctrines that, if I understand them, I can not and will not 
 endorse. If my constituents approve them they can not 
 approve me. Before many weeks my immediate political 
 future will be decided. I care less about the result than I 
 have ever cared before." 
 
 The resolution formed four years before he was stead- 
 fastW adhering to. This could only be political death, for 
 a rebellion in a Congressional district against the State 
 platform would defeat either the State ticket or the Con- 
 gressional candidate. Like John Bright, of England, whose 
 admiration for his character caused him to move Garfield's 
 election as a member of the Cobden Club, General Garfield 
 never trimmed with his party. His political views were to 
 him matters of principle. They were deep seated, and held 
 in the same reverent regard as his religious convictions. He 
 possessed a patriotism larger than his party, as broad as his 
 
388 THE GENIUS OP INDUSTRY. 
 
 common country, and was filled with a philanthropy for all 
 mankind. He was a statesman and a patriot. 
 
 When he returned home from Congress his friends found 
 he was immovable on the financial question. A short time 
 before the nominating convention he was about to return to 
 Washington. His friends arranged to give him a reception 
 at Jefferson on the eve of his departure. There was to be 
 some speech-making, and his confidential friends advised 
 him to let the financial question alone. The welcome 
 address contained some broad hints. It kindly intimated 
 that the district must not disagree with the State platform, 
 and that he ought to endorse the State position if he asked 
 for a renomination. " Then the thunder let fl}'." He took 
 up the question of finance, and, in the boldest terms, 
 denounced the State platform as dishonest and unworthy of 
 support. He declared that if a life-time of office were 
 offered him, with the understanding that he was to support 
 the platform he would refuse it at once. He had again con- 
 sternated his friends by his conscientious independence. 
 The next morning he went to Washington. When the 
 time for the convention came the whole district had learned 
 of his speech. With one voice they said they preferred 
 integrity and abilit}^ above mere party fealty, and again he 
 was renominated and triumphantly re-elected by a people 
 who were not in accord with his views. 
 
 He was a hard worker, and punctual in the performance 
 of promises and duty. He possessed the faculty of attention. 
 It is said when he preached that he knew the color of every 
 woman's dress, and the number of buttons of every man's 
 coat in his congregation. His mind, like Leonardo's, was 
 always in a receptive condition. He obtained recreation by 
 changing his subjects of study. Attention gave him punc- 
 
JAMES A. GARFIELD. 389 
 
 tuality. One rule of his public life was that every civil 
 letter, no matter from what source or on what subject, 
 demanded an answer. After a few years in Congress this 
 habit became known, and scores of men from the districts 
 of other Congressmen made their inquiries or asked their 
 favors of him instead of their own member. This made his 
 correspondence large and exacting. He handled it, how- 
 ever, with ease, for he possessed genius of labor. 
 
 At college and during his early public career, twenty 
 hours of study was common with him, and every hour of 
 the twenty had its task. When asked by a campaign 
 writer, during the Presidential contest of 1880, for one of 
 his sermons, as the public desired to know that he was 
 indeed a preacher, he answered that he had never written a 
 discourse in full, but that he always used headings, never 
 trusting himself to purely extemporaneous addresses, and 
 that he had over a thousand of these briefs, but he declined 
 to make political capital out of his preaching, and refused to 
 fill out one of his skeletons. 
 
 Webster preserved the brilliant thoughts and illustrations 
 that came to him in his study, on bits of paper, and kept 
 them in a classified arrangement. Lamartine jotted down 
 every good expression that he heard or read on any subject 
 of interest to him, and strung them all like beads on a string. 
 Adolph Thiers kept a large blank book in which he made 
 such entries and into which he pasted clippings from the 
 newspapers. Thiers was also regardless of the perfection 
 of books; a passage that suited him he cut out as remorse- 
 lessly as he would from a paper. He contended that he 
 knew where to find it in his blank book but could find noth- 
 ing in the library when he wanted it. His blank books at 
 his death would have filled a wagon. Palmerston had 
 
390 THE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 the faculty of treasuring every particle of valuable informa- 
 tion that came to him. One sentence was not too small for 
 him to preserve when it forcibly expressed a thought. Even 
 a word, used in an original and stril^ing way, was caught 
 by him and held in the talons of his all-embracing note-book. 
 Garfield kept sci'ap books, in which he preserved, in the 
 order in which they had been delivered, all of his public 
 speeches. He also kept an elaborate index of everything he 
 had ever read. Suppose one has been reading in Garfield's 
 life; his brilliant invective against treason and the paragraph 
 on coercion seems worthy of remembrance: 
 
 "No statute was ever enforced without coercion; it is 
 the basis of every law in the universe, human or divine. A 
 law is no law without coercion behind it. You lev^y taxes, 
 coercion secures their collection; it follows the shadow of 
 the thief and brings him to justice; it lays its iron hand on 
 the murderer, tries him and hangs him; it accompanies your 
 diplomacy to foreign courts and backs the declaration of the 
 nation's rights by a pledge of the nation's strength. But 
 when the life of the nation is imperiled we are told it has no 
 coercive power against the parricides in its own bosom." 
 This, then is entered in the index thus: " Coercion under 
 the Constitution; opinion of J. A. Garfield; speech in Con- 
 gress on treason, April 8th, 1864, vol. — , page — ." This 
 plan he followed with all the books he ever read. It gave 
 him an exhaustless mine of information on a moment's 
 notice. He hoarded every useful scrap from the newspapers, 
 and noted the passing thought in his own mind that 
 impressed him as valuable. With this vast array of knowl- 
 edge at his finger's end, and tact enough to have what he 
 needed in shape when a contest came on, he spoke with a 
 wealth of information and glow of illustration which was 
 
JAMES A GARFIELD. 391 
 
 unparalleled in the annals of Congressional debates. Web- 
 ster was great on constitutional questions; Cla}^ was great 
 on the problems involved in a compromise; but Garfield's 
 name and fame can never be identified with any single ques- 
 tion or measure, for he displayed the same ability on every 
 question alike. He was a scholar in the broadest sense. 
 His influence grew upon the country without consciousness 
 of it on his part or the country's. He was continuously in 
 Congress from the time of his first election until iS8o. It 
 finally dawned upon the people as they read fragments of 
 his speeches, as they were published in the papers, that he 
 was the ripest scholar and maturest statesman in the national 
 assembly. He was so radical in his opinions that he was 
 always ahead of his party, and so much a patriot that he 
 was frequently out of accord with his co-political leaders. 
 1880 found him the most conspicuous figure in the Ameri- 
 can government. He had gained his prominence by no sud- 
 den flight, but " by toiling onward through the night." He 
 delivered many addresses before colleges and was a frequent 
 contributor to the magazines. His college addresses were 
 earnest practical talks to young men. Many of the men 
 now holding high positions in the various lines of service 
 owe their inspiration to achievement to the encouragement 
 of General Garfield. In an oration before the Commercial 
 College at Washington City, on the " Elements of Success," 
 he said: 
 
 " I feel a profounder reverence for a boy than a man. I 
 never meet a ragged boy in the street without feeling that I 
 owe him a salute, for I know not what possibilities may be 
 buttoned up under his shabby coat. When I meet you in 
 the full flush of mature life I see nearly all there is of you; 
 but among these boys are the great men of the future— the 
 
392 THE GENIUS OF INDUtiTRT. 
 
 heroes of the next generation, the philosophers, the states- 
 men, the philanthropists, the great reformers and molders 
 of the next age; therefore, I say, there is a peculiar charm 
 to me in the exhibitions of young people engaged in the 
 business of education. * * * Let me beg of you in the 
 outset of your career to dismiss from your minds all idea of 
 succeeding by luck. There is no more common thought 
 among young people than that foolish one, that by and by 
 something will turn up by which the}' will suddenly 
 achieve fame or fortune. No, young gentlemen, things don't 
 turn up in this world unless somebody turns them up. Iner- 
 tia is one of the indispensable laws of matter, and things lie 
 flat where they are until b}' some intelligent spirit (for noth- 
 ing but spirit makes motion in this world) they are endowed 
 with activity and life. Luck is an ignus fatuus. You may 
 follow it to ruin, but not to success. The great Napoleon 
 who believed in his destiny, followed it until he saw his star 
 go down in blackest night, when the Old Guard perished 
 round him, and Waterloo was lost. A pound of pluck is 
 worth a ton of luck. 
 
 " Poverty is uncomfortable, as I can testify, but nine times 
 out of ten the best thing that can happen to a young man is 
 to be tossed overboard and be compelled to sink or swim for 
 himself. In all my acquaintance I have never known one to 
 be drowned who was worth saving. This would not be 
 wholly true in any countr}' but one of political equality like 
 ours. In the aristocracy of the Old World, wealth and 
 society are built up like the strata of rocks which compose 
 the crust of the earth. If a bo}' be born in the lowest 
 stratum of life, it is almost impossible for him to rise 
 through this hard crust into the higher ranks; but in this 
 countr}' it is not so. The strata of our society resembles 
 
JAMES A. GARFIELD. 393 
 
 rather the ocean, where every drop, even the lowest, is free 
 to mingle with all others, and may shine at last on the crest' 
 of the highest wave." 
 
 In 1879 the Ohio Legislature elected General Garfield to 
 the United States Senate, but he was never permitted to 
 take his seat. In June of the following year he was nom- 
 inated for the Presidency, and elected in November, defeat- 
 ing General Hancock. He was inaugurated under the most 
 auspicious omens. At once, on his election, the distracted 
 arid restless spirit that had marked the political life of the 
 country since the close of the rebellion began to subside. 
 The turbulent elements of both parties seemed to have been 
 touched by a controlling spirit of calmness. The whole 
 country accepted his advent into power as a certain presage 
 of vindicated justice and the maintenance of every right. 
 The individuality of the man was impressed upon every 
 citizen ; out of his generous nature flowed the dawn of peace 
 and good will to a nation that had for twenty years lain 
 under the shadow of party hatred and sectional antipathies. 
 He exercised his personal influence upon the citizens of 
 the Republic, and possessed their private confidence and 
 public admiration, as he had done with the students at 
 Hiram. It was the legitimate triumph of a life of honest 
 industry and stainless integrity. 
 
 On the second day of July, after his inauguration. Presi- 
 dent Garfield was assassinated by Charles J. Guiteau. The 
 jury on the trial of the assassin declared him to be of sound 
 mind; nevertheless the evidence showed clearly that he was 
 smarting under his failure to receive an office he had insolent- 
 ly demanded of the President. He was a man of boundless 
 conceit, mad with his vanity and insane with his egotism. 
 The civilized world was shocked at the assassin's deed. The 
 
394 THE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 nation wept. That flood of tears came nearer washing out 
 Mason and Dixon's line than the deluge of blood sacrificed 
 in the war. Animosities were forgotten, and all parties met 
 in sympathy and sorrow, and said prayers at his bedside. 
 But the bullet had done its fatal work; after lingering in 
 a terrible agony, he finally expired on the 19th of September. 
 As the nation turned from the close of the great and solemn 
 rites at his funeral, his own words at Lincoln's death seemed 
 to come with the singular force of assurance and prophecy: 
 "God reigns, and the government at Washington still 
 lives!" 
 
s^— 
 
 cV^,~ 
 
 ^43—^ 
 
<^p^pj^]Oj^.^ 
 
 If thou canst plan a noble deed, 
 
 And never flag till it succeed, 
 
 Though in the strife thy heart should bleed, 
 
 Whatever obstacles control, 
 
 Thine hour will come — go on, true soul! 
 
 Thou'lt win the prize, thou'lt reach the goal. 
 
 — Mackay. 
 
 In helpless indecisions lie 
 The rocks on which we strike and die, 
 'Twere better far to choose the worst 
 Of life's ways than to be accursed 
 With indecision. Turn and choose 
 Your way, then all the world refuse, 
 
 — Joaquin Miller. 
 
IFE is not a dead level, with a humdrum routine of 
 regularly recurring duties. It is a world of diver- 
 sified features, over which active, earnest men in 
 multitudes are deplo3'ing, through ravines, around ambus- 
 cades, fording fierce rivers, resisting flank movements, and 
 charging down the open field. Every step involves fresh 
 perplexities; every movement reveals new obstacles which 
 must be promptly met and conquered or they will conquer. 
 The contest demands men of instantaneous power. The 
 pushing wheels of time will not wait for the man who falters 
 and hesitates, and whose constant cry is, "Time! tiriie to 
 deliberate ! " They only roll for the man whose momentum 
 of character is such that it swings off with them at the same 
 speed and ease. They can brook no clogs. The soil they 
 sweep over is virgin, and they scatter opportunities never 
 offered before. In bold-cut characters victory appears at 
 their figure-head, and with impatient rush they bound toward 
 their goal. 
 
 Mastery belongs to the men who perceive the relations of 
 things at a glance — men who grasp the march of events, 
 with all their immensity of details, dash them into the 
 
398 TEE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 scales, weigh them, announce the result and their determina- 
 tion in the case, before the world conceives of an advantage 
 taken or an issue formed. Suppose such men do sometimes 
 miss the mark as to judgment; they load and fire again 
 before the target can be examined. Or, even if defeated, 
 there is a ring of conquest in their defeat. Their rapid 
 recognition of failure, and prompt withdrawal for another 
 stroke, there or elsewhere, is often itself the insurance of 
 victory. 
 
 All men have the seeds of decision within them, and it is 
 as capable of cultivation as any other faculty. Yet so few 
 are characterized as decisive, that to be so is to be called 
 great. It is indispensable to manl}' grandeur. Who ever 
 heard of a great man being devoid of it.'' Nevertheless, it 
 does not come to maturit}' without labor, and to some not 
 without great travail. Dr. Adam Clarke and Jeremy 
 Bentham, both mighty minds, were strangely deficient in 
 decision. What the}' lacked by nature, however, they 
 made up by assiduous training. They well knew that with- 
 out this fortune-favoring trait the toil of their lives would be 
 stamped with infirmit)'. Without a certain degree of prac- 
 tical force, compounded of decision, which is the root, and 
 wisdom, which is the stem, of character, life is abortive. 
 Being may be compared to two bodies of water, one of 
 which, stagnant and purposeless, is offensive to sentient life; 
 the other, a swelling, pushing stream, is able to give motion 
 to the machinery of a district. 
 
 No man who lacked decision has ever made his mark in 
 the world. Force of character is worth more to a man than 
 all the learning Yale and Harvard are able to give him. A 
 profound knowledge of the occult sciences given to a man 
 who has no basic strength of character is much like planting 
 
DECISION. 399 
 
 acorns in the sandy desert and expecting oaks to grow. 
 There is no vitalizing power in tlie man. With his Intellect 
 developed and his will-power dwarfed, he goes blundering 
 through life in a hunchback sort of way, to be finally 
 wrecked in some undertaking; while a man with half his 
 brains and acquired lore, but who possesses decision, pushes 
 ahead of him to victory. On the high shore of aspiration 
 how many magnificent barks lie stranded. Hope, intellect, 
 culture, intention, they had, but they perished, for they 
 lacked strength of character. So repeatedly true is Jhis 
 that the world has come to recognize it as a truism that all 
 the great men are self-made men. It is true that conflicts 
 with poverty and other adverse circumstances develop a 
 sinewy determination that is scarcely obtainable in anj' other 
 school. The strokes of outrageous fortune have created 
 in many instances what all other training, and nature 
 itself had not given. Men have trembled on the brink 
 of every undertaking, until dire calamity forced them 
 to act; then, when their clutched hammer descended, 
 earth felt the stroke. Horace said he could decide on 
 no course of life until poverty drove him to Virgil and 
 to poetry. When the Archbishop of Toledo visited 
 Madrid he expressed a desire to meet the learned Cer- 
 vantes. He was told that Cervantes had borne arms in the 
 service of his country, and was now old and poor. " What," 
 exclaimed the Frenchman, " is not Senor Cervantes in good 
 circumstances? Wh}' is he not maintained, then, out of the 
 public treasury.? " "Heaven forbid! " was the reply, "that 
 his necessities should ever be relieved, if it is those which 
 make him write; since it is his poverty that makes the 
 world rich." 
 
 To give character the dignity which belongs to it one 
 
40t( THE OENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 must be swift to execute what he resolves upon. This is 
 possible to all men, although not equally easy to all. The 
 stature of perfect manhood is attained only by effort, and 
 decision with many persons is their weak spot. Hence 
 patience and labor must be expended to build up and 
 strengthen this necessary qualification. No one is vested 
 with all the faculties in perfection. No one is so clothed 
 upon that every garment gratifies the eye by its beauty. 
 Manhood is a growth; and will-power is an outgrowth of 
 every thing else. It is the top blossom on the tree. When 
 you behold it, lo, the season for fruit is at hand. Cultivate 
 every quality, then, that can in any respect promote the 
 prosperity of this. Clip the wings of your ambition, and 
 train it to less pretentious flights. Dissipate not a good 
 intention by thronging it about with a complex multitude of 
 frivolous desires. Be not drawn aside just as you are mak- 
 ing ready for the spring, by the fluttering of a fear or the 
 bubbling up of a doubt. Let not decision be cheated of its 
 crown by that trickster, Variety, ever eager and quick to 
 leap into the place of an ascending rival. Play not the 
 harlot with licentious Choice. Pause not for a clear way. 
 Never leap into the dark. 
 
 The ability to resolve and determine will come slowly at 
 first. You will find yourself a thousand times mistaking 
 desire and intention for it. Gradually the power will grow 
 upon you. After a while the whole nature will undergo 
 re-creation. All the conflicts of life will assume a different 
 aspect. You will vanquish opposition in ,a way that once 
 appeared impossible. You will surmount barriers heretofore 
 impassable. You will covet difficulties on which you may 
 whet your blade to a keener edge. You will take your place 
 among those who manufacture the opinions and open up the 
 
DECISION. 401 
 
 highways of mankind. The gods favor the men who know 
 how to resolve. 
 
 Promptness of decision is one of the first things to culti- 
 vate in order to do away with that extravagant overgrowth 
 of purpose that proves fatal to so many. Strength, which 
 should be expended in deeds, is too frequentl}' lost in dreams. 
 Day by day goes by occupied in idle reveries. Men oft fall 
 into trances. They assume the clairvo3'ant state. With 
 supple skill they construct a paradise of purposes. But their 
 paradise is defective and they must mend it. Between im- 
 practicable planning and actionless purpose they hang sus- 
 pended between heaven and earth, like King Trisanco when 
 the Brahmans said "rise!" and the gods of Swerga said 
 "fall!" Thus thev busy themselves, hatching and patching, 
 Until indignant life bursts upon them suddenl}', lashing them 
 with a whip of scorpions. 
 
 " Be wise to-day: 'tis madness to defer. 
 Next day the fatal precedent will plead." 
 
 Richter said that Luther's words were half-battles. This 
 is because they were half-deeds. With him, to will was 
 to execute; to speak was to act. He had thrown 
 himself into the breach, to meet the spear of war or to drive 
 the foe from the field. And whenever one does this, he ap- 
 proaches the very summit of his being. If ever a man is 
 godlike it is then. Destiny itself bends to his imperious 
 will, and "fate seems strangled in his nervous "grasp." 
 Under such promptings resolution crystallizes as quickly as 
 water at zero. He moves along with intrepiditv. Every- 
 thing that he touches is transmuted into power. Quicksand 
 routes become granite; inaccessible mountains, inviting 
 plains. Nature's forces crumble at his bidding. Human 
 beings, under the spell of his magic, crouch at his feet, and, 
 
402 THE OEXIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 daring to scale the mountains which bar his pathway, he 
 reaches even to the stars. 
 
 A man's virtues are the greater part of his capital when 
 dealing with destiny. There is power in uprightness of life 
 before which nothing mean can stand. In it is a fire that 
 burns awa}' the dross from one's own character. " Unless 
 man can erect himself above himself, how poor a thing is 
 man!" Honor and integrity both erect and uphold one; 
 the}' give independence to action. One that fears not to sit 
 in criticism upon himself and condemn each delinquenc}' is 
 prepared to go out without hesitancy to others anfl admon- 
 ish them; and one that can conquer himself stands a better 
 chance to conquer others, for in his selfstruggle he has 
 gained knowledge which he can utilize for the benefit of his 
 fellows. 
 
 Circumstances, also, are elements out of which character 
 is compactly built. It used to be a question in our bo}'- 
 hood, " Is man the creature of circumstance, or circum- 
 stance the creature of man?" This is not the way to put 
 it. Neither horn of the dilemma is either true or false. 
 Each holds a half truth; sometimes we drive and sometimes 
 we are driven. INIen are not alvva}'s equal to themselves, as 
 respects circumstances. Some preserve their equilibrium 
 much better than others, almost uniformly moulding their 
 surroundings happily; but even with them there arise dark 
 occasion upon which they are baffled and defeated. Even 
 he who earned the right, if ever uninspired man did, to say, 
 "Circumstances! I create ciixumstances! " found out his 
 mistake at Waterloo. Neither are men equal to each 
 other. " Our strength is measured b}' our plastic power," 
 says Goethe's biographer. " From the same materials one 
 man builds palaces, another hovels; one warehouses, another 
 
DECISION. 403 
 
 villas. Bricks and mortar are mortar and bricks unless the 
 architect can make them something else. Thus it is that in 
 the srtme family, in the same circuinstances, one man rears 
 a stately edifice, while his brother, vaccillating and incom- 
 petent, lives forever amid ruins. The block of granite which 
 was an obstacle on the pathway of the weak becomes a 
 stepping-stone on the pathway of the strong." 
 
 There is no calling in which prompt decision is not some- 
 times imperiously needed. If a man could always stay in 
 his study, plan out his schemes in meditative moods, and 
 then put them into execution, completing them in the solitude 
 of his cell, all men would be heroes; but to go forth 
 before the world with that quietly-planned project and under- 
 take to execute it in the face of circumstances not counted 
 on, and meet the coup-dc-main of some brilliant competitor, 
 is quite another thing. There are times in the life of every 
 man when a little flexibility of character is worth his repu- 
 tation. It often occurs with actors that some mistake is 
 made or a part is overdone; the gallery is pleased or dis- 
 pleased b}- it, and the " gods " raise the yell. Not to be 
 equal to the emergenc}' is ruin. When Sothern stumbled 
 awkwardly on the stage, a hoot was raised. But he pos- 
 sessed himself into quiescence, seeing he must make them 
 believe it was acting. In the next scene he repeated it in 
 a more lumbering way than before. This time he brought 
 the house into his arms in a burst of applause, and he has 
 been master of the situation ever since. There are un- 
 looked-for opportunities arising constantly between disput- 
 ants on the stump, where one by keeping his wits about him, 
 and a ready tact, ma}' utterly demolish his opponent, when 
 otherwise he would come off worsted. It is related of the 
 late Judge Wilson that, when stumping it for Congress in 
 
40J: TUE GENIUS OP INDUSTRY. 
 
 one of the interior counties, liis competitor kept the audience 
 in a roar of laughter at the Judge's expense. The Judge 
 was no adept at this kind of warfare, and he felt that the 
 day was against him. He solemnl}' advanced on the plat- 
 form to reply, and poured out a half dozen of his ponderous 
 sentences upon the audience, when his opponent pulled his 
 coat-tails, whispering that he was sick, and wished to retire 
 a moment. " Certainly,'' said the Judge, and commenced 
 rolling out another leviathan sentence. It was about half 
 gone when he appeared to notice, for the first time, his op- 
 ponent facing the audience and hastening out b}' the aisle. 
 He stopped short, threw back his portly self, and, with a 
 rollicking laugh, shook his big hand at the hurr}"ing form, 
 and shouted, ''He runs! He flies! He can't stand tire! 
 He's sick!" 
 
 At such a crisis as this a head crammed with unavailable 
 learning is as useless as a loaded but fuseless bombshell. 
 And what multitudes of men are placed in this predicament! 
 
 Mark Twain being once toasted at a supper, rose with 
 alacrity to respond. He replied: "I can talk! I can 
 make a fine speech! In fact, I am eloquent! AVhy, I am 
 an orator, but I haven't m}- orator)^ with me this evening; I 
 left it at home." With Twain this would do; for the flashes 
 of his silence, heightened as they are b_y his pantomime, 
 sparkle with eloquence. But, on the whole, that which one 
 does not bring along with him in life is poorly placed to be 
 ready in an emergency. A physician often needs great 
 decisiveness of character. Called to the bedside of one who 
 is taken dangerously ill, and who is affrighted by possible 
 death, he must be cool and collected as an ice-cr3-stal. The 
 case demands heroic treatment both from the man and the 
 medicine. Were a Brown-Sequard to falter in such an 
 
DECISION. 405 
 
 instance for a moment, the consequence would be as fatal as 
 if he were a tyro fresh from the medical school. A man 
 must be read}' for emergencies. If not, nothing remains for 
 him but to drop out of competition, like a broken-kneed 
 horse on a race-track. Presence of mind and intrepidity of 
 character are essentials to great success. Men must be sol- 
 dier-like, and rest on their arms ready to spring up and fire 
 on the instant. Dr. John Brown, in speaking of this qua-lity, 
 well observes : " It is a curious condition of the mind that 
 this requires. It is like sleeping with your pistol under 3'our 
 pillow, and the pistol on full cock; a moment lost, and all 
 ma}' be lost. There is the very nick of time. INIen, when 
 they have done some signal feat of presence of mind, if 
 asked how they did it, do not very well know — they just 
 did it. It was, in fact, done, and then thought of; not 
 thought of and then done, in which case it would likely never 
 have been done at all. It is one of the highest powers of 
 mind thus to act; it is done by an acquired instinct.'' 
 
 The man who lacks this quality belongs to whoever may 
 capture him. He always thinks of the right thing to do 
 when the moment for action has passed. An English king 
 has handed his name down to us as Athelstane the Unready. 
 Those three words write his history. It is a trader's saying 
 that an article is worth whatever it will bring; so, men are 
 worth to themselves and the world the extent of their 
 accomplishments. The world justly estimates men by their 
 conquests, not by their assumed ability to conquer. The 
 man who only half decides to-day, drifts into another course 
 tomorrow, and the next day foregoes the matter altogether, 
 is like a chip floating down the river, whirled by every eddy, 
 halted by a floating leaf, and veered by every vagrant rip- 
 ple; not the stern vessel that bears its great wheels against 
 
406 THE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 the wave, and against current and storm drives on to its har- 
 bor. Tlic character of such a dawdler ma}' be as spotless 
 as that of Charles V of German}', who could, at one time, 
 have crushed the Reformation; but it is so mixed with half 
 heartedness and slowness of decision that, ere he suspects it, 
 a mightier than himself has sprung up in his dominion, who 
 will bind him hand and foot. A man is either to rule or be 
 ruled; he must conquer or be conquered. Let him, then, 
 arm himself to meet events as the}' change front and form, 
 and muster them into his own service. 
 
 When some one who by accident occupies a leading place, 
 pro\es himself unfit at a critical hour, opportunity is given 
 to subordinates. We have known cases in the army when 
 sergeants by one ,deft stroke decapitated lieutenants and 
 assumed the shoulder-straps. This is often done in legisla- 
 tive assemblies. That courtly statesman, John Quincy 
 Adams, would flash his brilliant saber through a serious prob- 
 lem that was hanging in political contest, and render a ver- 
 dict befoi'e the common statesman could comprehend the 
 importance of the situation. Once, when party spirit ran 
 high, and a rupture of the Union was imminent, on the con- 
 vening of Congress the Clerk refused to call the House 
 together. It was his duty to call the roll, ascertain if a 
 quorum was present, and on his fa\"orable report the Speaker 
 must formally declare Congress opened. Sectional feeling 
 increased every moment, good men were becoming distressed 
 in view of the significant consequences that would surely 
 ensue. All knew the constitutional quorum was present, 
 and yet one lawless hand was throttling the good purposes 
 of a nation. Mr. Adams hastily arose, after a futile parley 
 with the refractory Clerk, and moved that the " House of 
 Representatives be declared convened." " But the Clerk 
 
DECISION. 407 
 
 has not announced a quorum," cried the opposition, " and 
 then there is no one to put the question." " / announce that 
 there is a quorum," repHed Adams, " and / will see that this 
 House is able to conve?ie itself.'" So saying, he mounted the 
 desk and put the question. The convened Congress then 
 proceeded to its .momentous duties. 
 
 So it has happened in miHtary matters that one determined 
 subordinate lias saved the da}'. Wlien the Httle armaments 
 of Sparta and Athens found themselves completely sur- 
 rounded by the navy of the Hellespont hero, they were ready 
 to strike colors on the order. But Themistocles, in whose 
 breast the achievements of Miltiades burned, urged upon 
 Eurybiades the feasibilit}- and necessity of attacking the 
 enemy. The Spartan chief scouted the idea of attacking 
 such an overwhelmning armament, and, at last, indignant 
 that he should thus be dictated to, raised his cane to strike 
 the Athenian. " Strike," said Themistocles, " strike, but 
 hear me.'''' Themistocles was heard. The attack was made, 
 and the liberties of Greece were secured. 
 
 It is particularly true on the field of battle that fortune 
 alights on the standard of the general possessing prompt 
 decision. It is true that many battles turn " on one or two 
 rapid movements executed amid the whirl of smoke and 
 thunder of guns that jar the solid globe." A genei-al will 
 pour his iron phalanxes over a declivity according to his 
 well-planned order of battle, but in nearly every instance the 
 foe fails to present himself as expected. If he can change 
 his whole plan under the shadow of the enemy's guns, and 
 defile his sullen columns along a new path, taking the awful 
 havoc of their shot and shell until his freshly manned lines 
 are again formed, and then charge down upon the foe, few 
 armies will be found able to withstand the newly formed 
 
408 THE GENIUS OF lynUSTIiT. 
 
 front, and the added force of such movements. But it' he 
 doggedly adheres to his old plan, and ^aits for Grouchy to 
 come up and help him out, the wily foe will have the day. 
 
 It was in such moments as these that the genius of Bona- 
 parte shone forth in its highest luster. His mind, acting 
 like lightning, never acted more rapidly and accurately than 
 on the field of battle, when surrounded by smoke and car- 
 nage, and the destiny of armies and nations was resting upon 
 the result of a single charge. " Not until after the terrible 
 passage of the bridge of Lodi did the idea shoot across my 
 mind that I might become a decisive actor in the world's 
 arena," says the matchless Corsican. The fl\-ing Austrians 
 passed through the town of Lodi by the bridge over the 
 Adda, where they had heav}- batteries posted on the oppo- 
 site banks, with their range sweeping the bridge and town. 
 To drive the enemy to his stronghold and then retire was 
 to the mind of Bonaparte virtual defeat. To cross the bridge 
 and rout the Austrians would be a victory signal and of vast 
 importance. He announced to his officers that they would 
 storm the bridge at once. " It is impossible," said one, 
 " that any men can force their way across that narrow 
 bridge, in the face of such a storm of balls as must be encoun- 
 tered." "How impossible!" exclaimed Bonaparte; "that 
 word is not French." 
 
 He immediately dispatched a body of cavalry to lord the 
 river at a crossing three miles above the town, which the 
 Austrians had unaccountably neglected to protect, and 
 ordered them to make a most desperate charge upon the 
 rear of the eneni}'. He then assembled six thousand picked 
 troops under shelter of one of the streets nearest the point 
 of attack, and addressed them in his martial eloquence, until 
 they clamored to be led to the assault. It was evening. 
 
DECISION. 409 
 
 Not a breath of air rippled tlie smooth surface of that water, 
 so soon to be dyed with the blood of these heroic men. 
 
 The moment that Bonaparte's eagle eye percei\ed by the 
 commotion among the Austrians that his cavalry had crossed 
 the ford and were pressing on their rear, he ordered the 
 trumpets to sound the charge. The line wheeled into solid 
 column; then, bursting from their shelter in a full run and 
 rending the air with their shouts, they rushed upon the 
 bridge. They were met by a murderous discharge of 
 artillery. The structure was swept as with a whirlwind. 
 The whole head of the column was cut down like grass before 
 the scythe. Still the surviving part of the column pushed 
 on until it reached the middle of the bridge. Here it wav- 
 vered. That volcanic burst of tire was too terrible for mor- 
 tal inen to endure. Bonaparte saw the crisis had come; so, 
 seizing a standard, he plunged through the clouds of smoke, 
 and over the bleeding bodies to the head of the faltering 
 column and shouted, "Follow your General." 
 
 The mangled column, animated anew by this example, 
 rushed with fixed bayonets upon the Austrian gunners. At 
 the same moment the French cavalry came dashing upon 
 the batteries in the rear, and the bridge was carried. The 
 French army now poured across the narrow passage like a 
 torrent, and deployed upon the plain. Still the battle raged 
 with unmitigated fury. The Austrians hurled themselves 
 upon the French with the energy of despair. But the troops 
 of Bonaparte, intoxicated with their amazing achieveinent, 
 set all danger at defiance, and seemed as regardless of bullets 
 and shells as if they had been snow-balls in the hands of 
 children. 
 
 One battery remained impregnable, and dealt terrible 
 havoc among the ranks of the French. Every effort to 
 
410 THE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 storm it had pro^'ed futile. An officer rode to Bonaparte, 
 and cried, " Tliat battery will be our ruin." "Let it be 
 silenced, then," said Bonaparte. Turning to a body of 
 dragoons, near b}', he exclaiined, "Follow me." Off they 
 flew to the impetuous charge, their leader ahead, through 
 showers of grape-shot, carrj'ing mutilation and death into 
 their ranks, and threw themselves, with a shout, upon the 
 battery. The Austrian gunners were instantl}- sabered, and 
 their guns turned upon the foiled and beaten foe 
 
 This splendid achievement dismaA'ed Austria and inspired 
 all France. This battle was won by a series of movements 
 conceived under the ver}' guns of an o\'erwhelming foe, and 
 executed with an awful celerit}', amid the whirl of smoke 
 and deadly belch of rock-fortressed cannon. Bonaparte saw 
 and grasped instantly the unprotected ford. lie risked tiie 
 flower of his cavalry to disconcert the Austrian rear. He 
 then, by his eloquence, fired his men to charge the bridge. 
 All would have been lost again, when they halted on the 
 bridge, if he had not on the spot decided that he, as standard- 
 bearer, could renew their enthusiasm. And, finally, the 
 immediatel}' conceived and instantly executed charge upon 
 the " impregnable batter}' " crowned the climax of succes- 
 sive manoeuvers, ever}' one of which was contrar}' to estab- 
 lished tactics, taking the enemy completely by surprise, and 
 winning the imperishable victory. '" This beardless youth," 
 said an Austrian general, indignantly, " ought to have been 
 beaten over and over again; for who ever saw such tactics! 
 The blockhead knows nothing of the rules of war. To-day 
 he is in our rear, to-morrow on our flank, and the next day 
 again in our front. Such gross violations of the established 
 usages of war are insufferable." 
 
 At the close of his career Bonaparte was guilt}' of the 
 
DECISIO:f. 411 
 
 same mistake of which he used to accuse the Austrians; he 
 ceased to recognize the value of a moment. The swiftness 
 of decision and promptness of action that had characterized 
 him heretofore were wanting at Waterloo. With the 
 failure to exercise this power at Waterloo he relinquished 
 his prestige as the man of destiny, and was retired to the 
 rocky retreat of St. Helena. 
 
 Wellington's decisiveness and promptitude on the field 
 manifested itself to the very end of his military life. For 
 this reason he never lost a battle. Never, perhaps, did his 
 promptness stand out so singularly grand as on the field of 
 Waterloo, where he defeated Bonaparte, exterminated the 
 French army, and shipwrecked the Empire. 
 
 On the 15th of June the campaign began. Wellington 
 was attending a brilliant ball, given b}' the Duchess of 
 Richmond, at Brussels, when a courier suddenly entered and 
 informed him that Bonaparte had crossed the frontier, and 
 was within ten miles of Brussels. The Duke thought him 
 to be reveling in the gayety of Paris. The energies of the 
 Iron Duke were immediately aroused to their utmost tension. 
 He hastily retired with all his officers. Bugles sounded, 
 drums beat, soldiers rallied, and the whole mighty host, 
 cavalry, artillery, infantry and field trains, were in an hour 
 careering through the dark and flooded streets of Brussels. 
 To Quatre-Bras, fifteen miles awa}', a point of eminent 
 importance, Wellington hastened. For three da3-s it had 
 rained. Through the whole nigiit the inundation of war 
 rolled along the road. Ne}-, to whom Bonaparte had said, 
 " Enter Quatre-Bras this night at all hazards: the destiny of 
 France is in your hands,'''' slumbered on his arms a few 
 hours, and from the heights, next morning at early dawn. 
 
412 THE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 saw the smoke of Wellington's camp-fires quietly encircling 
 that key to victory. 
 
 Bonaparte pushed his own forces on to Ligny, where he 
 encountered Blucher and gave the Prussians what Welling- 
 ton called "an awful threshing." While the victorious 
 Bonaparte rested eight hours, giving the defeated Prussians 
 time to flee to Wavre, and collect their forces for another 
 battle, the wily Wellington grasped his opportunity and 
 rushed to Waterloo on a line parallel to that taken by his 
 retreating allies. Here he selected his ground, entrenched 
 himself, and then deco3'ed Bonaparte to this, his only 
 unshattered enemy, for a last conflict. The next da}' at 
 eleven o'clock Bonaparte opened fire, b,ut it was on an 
 enemy vastly reinforced, and who had occupied every hour 
 in perfecting his intrenchments. Jerome's division hurled 
 itself against Hougoumont. Column after column swept 
 down the ridge and assailed it with fiery valor; " but it was 
 like butting their heads against a wall." In a few hours 
 forty thousand of the combatants were weltering in their 
 gore. The field was swept with an unintermitted storm of 
 balls, shells, bullets and grape-shot, while enormous masses 
 of cavalry, influent and refluent surges, trampled into the 
 blood}' mire the dying and the dead. The two generals 
 from their lofty positions sur\e3'ed these stubborn, terrible 
 charges, and felt that the destiny of Europe hung on the 
 issue of that day's battle. 
 
 In the midst of these awful scenes, as portions of Welling- 
 ton's lines were giving wa}', and when Bonaparte felt sure 
 or ^'ictor3^ the quick eyes of both generals discerned an 
 immense mass of men. more than thirty thousand strong, 
 emerging from the forest, and with rapid steps deploying 
 upon the plain. The Emperor was sanguine that it was 
 
DECISION. 413 
 
 Marshal Grouchy, and that the battle was decided. The 
 Duke was sure it was Blucher hastening from Wavre with 
 his recuperated forces, according to their agreement. 
 Another moment and the artillery balls began to plow the 
 Emperor's ranks and he knew it was Blucher come to the 
 rescue of Wellington. 
 
 Then it was in the madness of despair he ordered the Old 
 Guard to the charge. But what could this feeble band now 
 do to stem such a torrent.^ " The allies were pouring, wave 
 after wave, across the plain; five squares of the French were 
 broken and cut to pieces; and now the effect produced on 
 the rest of the French army b}' the repulse of the Guard 
 and the sudden onslaught of Zieten was completed b}' the 
 general advance, for which Wellington, with the instinct of 
 genius, suddenly forsook his attitude of defense; and, as 
 Blucher 's ^•ictorious legions were pouring across the sole 
 line of retreat, while the last reserves of the French had 
 been exhausted, the defeat was turned into a panic and a 
 rout unparalleled in history." 
 
 The eagle was no longer in the keeping of the gods, 
 because Bonaparte no longer acted with decision and prompt- 
 ness. The Bonaparte of Lodi would ha^"e pursued the 
 Prussians between Ligny and Wavre, and annihilated them, 
 and then, having united with Grouchy, would have fallen 
 on Wellington like a thunderbolt and utterly ruined the 
 allied forces. Or, failing to unite with Grouchy, he would 
 have fallen on Wellington at sunrise, as he did on the allied 
 forces at Austerlitz, and have routed and scattered him 
 before eleven o'clock. This he did not do. Wellington, 
 whose decision and promptness never failed him, was aston- 
 ished at Bonaparte's letharg}', and with unerring celerity 
 took advantage of it. He then forced Bonaparte to fight 
 
ili THE GENIUS UP INDUSTRY. 
 
 him in liis own well selected and strongly fortified position. 
 He avoided battle as long as possible, thus giving his allies 
 opportunity to draw near him, and render assistance if neces- 
 sary-. Finally, Blucher appeared at the critical moment, 
 when Wellington, with consummate adroitness, forsook his 
 attitude of defense, and ordered the consolidated lines to 
 advance, withdrawing, however, his mutilated corps from 
 the fiercest points of the onset. The French threw their 
 desperate and shattered squares against that fresli and solid 
 mass of guns and men in vain. Tliey went clown like the 
 cities of the plain under the fire rained from Hea\en. Wel- 
 lington won Waterloo b}' his superior tact and decision, and 
 sent the maker of thrones and princes weeping to Paris. 
 
 Men who make a great ado are not generall}' capable of 
 iron decisions. It is in this that blusterers exhibit their 
 incapacit}-. Sir Philip Sidney was the pattern to all Eng- 
 land of a perfect gentleman, and also for decision of char- 
 acter. Bonaparte undertook the conquest of Russia with 
 less ado than half the merchants when they lay in their 
 spring stock of goods. Stonewall Jackson and General 
 Sherman, men of quickness of perception and rare determi- 
 nation, were very quiet about all their undertakings. An 
 illustration of the Iron Duke's characteristic qualities is the 
 reply which he is said to ha\'e made when in danger of ship- 
 wreck. It was bed-time, when the captain of the vessel, in 
 great affright, came to him and said, " It will soon be all 
 over with us." "Very well," was the reply, "then I shall 
 not take off my boots." 
 
 Decision of mind needs to have united to it a determina- 
 tion to accomplish a laudable undertaking. It not unfre- 
 quently occurs that men endowed with great natural decision 
 of character fritter their energies away on unworthy objects. 
 
DECISION. 415 
 
 Beau Brummel had as much natural resolution as Julius 
 Crcsar, but he put it all into the adjustment of his cra^"at ; 
 Nero had as much as Themistocles, but he used it to despoil 
 his country; and Charles Lamb evinced more determina- 
 tion when he spent weeks dictating a humorous letter to a 
 friend than Walter Scott exhibited when he was throwing 
 off fort}' pages of Waverly per day. A noble aim is neces- 
 sary to bring out the worth of decision. 
 
 Literary men are more apt to lack decision than men who 
 have to deal with armies or even ordinary practical business 
 matters. A melancholy example of this is furnished by the 
 life of Thomas DeQuince}', who, his famous eulogist has 
 said, " possessed one of the most potent and original spirits 
 that ever dwelt in a tenement of clay." At an early age 
 he conceived a profound contempt for his pompous tutor, 
 and when his guardians refused to permit him to leave the 
 Manchester pedant, he ran away at night with a copy of an 
 English poet in one pocket, and nine pla3's of Euripides in 
 the other, and began his wanderings. Sometimes he stopped 
 in fine hotels; sometimes his supper was composed of berries, 
 and then under the shade of a haystack he mused himself 
 to sleep counting the stars. Soon after this his relati\es 
 started him to school, and in two years' time his progress 
 had been so rapid that we hear his classical professor say- 
 ing to a stranger, "That boy could harangue an Athenian 
 mob better than j'ou or I could address an English one." 
 Shortly after this, when he fancied the learned Bishop of 
 Bangor had given him an insult, we find him gravely weigh- 
 ing the propriety of addressing the distinguished prelate a 
 remonstrance in Greek. He went to Oxford to be examined 
 for admission, and passed the first daj^'s trial so triumph- 
 antly that one of the examiners said to a resident of Wor- 
 
416 THE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 cester College: "You have sent us to-da}^ the cleverest 
 man I ever met; if his viva voce examination, to-morrow, 
 correspond with what he has done in writing, he will carrv 
 every thing before him." DeQuincey, however, did not wait 
 to be questioned further; but, for some reason — it may have 
 been, as usual, without any reason — he pa'cked his trunk 
 and walked away from Oxford, never to return. He now 
 began to apply himself seriously to study, having broken up 
 his opium habit. At thirty we find him a thorough scholar. 
 His mind seemed to be a vast magazine, admirably arranged ; 
 every thing was there, and ever}- thing was in its place. 
 Scholars and literati sought him, for he was a li\'ing c\'clo- 
 pedia. He was accurate; his judgments on men, on sects, 
 on books, he had carefully tested and weighed, and then 
 committed each to its proper receptacle in the most capaci- 
 ous and accurately constructed memory that any human 
 being ever possessed. No man e\er went to DeQuincey 
 and asked for any thing that was not to be found in that 
 immense storehouse. His essa3'ist has said: "At once 
 colossal and keen, DeQuince3'''s intellect seems capable of 
 taking the profoundest view of inen and things, and of dart- 
 ing the most piercing glances into details; it has an eagle's 
 eye to gaze at the sun, and the eye of a cat to glance at 
 things in the dark; is quick as a hawk to pounce upon a 
 brilliant falsehood, 3'et as slow as a ferret to pursue a sophism 
 through all its mazes and sinuosities. Now meditative in 
 gentle thought, and anon sharp in analytic criticism; now 
 explaining the subtle charm of Wordsworth's poetry, and 
 again unraveling a knotty point in Aristotle, or cornering a 
 lie in Josephus ; to-day, penetrating the bowels of the earth 
 with the geologist; to-morrow, soaring through the stellar 
 spaces with the astronomer — it seems exactly fitted for 
 
DECISION. 417 
 
 every subject it discusses, and reminds you of the ele- 
 phant's lithe proboscis, which with equal dexterit}' can 
 uproot an oak or pick up a pin." Of this universalit\; of his 
 genius one who knew him well says that in theolog}' his 
 knowledge was equal to that of two bishops; in astronomy 
 • he outshone Professor Nichol ; in chemistry he could out- 
 dive Samuel Brown; and in Greek excite to jealously the 
 shades of Porson and Samuel Parr. In short, to borrow an 
 illustration of Macaulay, it is hardly an exaggeration to say 
 ■of the Opium Eater's intellect, that it resembled the tent 
 "which the fairy Paribanou gave to Prince Ahmed — " Fold 
 it, and it seemed a toy for the hand of a lad}-; spread it, and 
 the armies of powerful sultans might repose beneath its 
 shade." 
 
 This man, who was conscious of his vast acquisitions, who 
 knew himself to be the lion of learning, who said that he 
 " lived on earth the life of a demi-urgus, and kept the ke3's 
 of paradise," was thus preparing himself and for fifty-four 
 long years getting ready to write a work on human intellect. 
 But such was his imbecility for carrying his lofty concep- 
 tion into prompt execution that, after all the material had 
 been gathered on the grounds, he did not lay the first stone 
 of the superstructure. He could not sacrifice present incli- 
 nations to his grand ulterior purpose. He wrote that won- 
 derfully curious production, " The Confessions of an Opium 
 Eater." He wrote on Pope and Shakspeare, on " Political 
 Economy " and " Fun," " Criticisms," " Philosophical Es- 
 says," and " Biographical Sketches." Between these and 
 talking nature to Wordsworth, transcendentalism to Cole- 
 ridge, prose drudger}' to Southey, walking with " peripatetic 
 Stewart," joking with Charles Lamb, poking fun at George 
 Dj-er, and damning the literary world with Hazlitt, he passed 
 
418 THE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 his years until seventy-three, and was taken to his death-bed 
 still hoping to have time to vi^rite his immortal work on the 
 human intellect. Thus lived and died one of the most bril- 
 liant but impotent intellects the sun ever shone upon, his life 
 frittered away by reason of his indecision and lack of prompt- 
 ness. 
 
 Let no man delude himself with the belief that he will 
 ultimately do much who is spending his present 3'ear on work 
 of a third-rate character, neither worthy of his abilities nor 
 justifying even in a moderate degree the expectations of his 
 friends. The fatal defect of these years will fasten upon him 
 like the grasp of a vise, and when the promised days of great 
 undertakings come, he will find himself without inclination 
 or ability to perform. The greater part of all the mischief 
 in the world arises from the fact that men do not sufficiently 
 understand their own aims. Let a man decide early upon 
 what he wishes to do, and for what his talents fit him; and 
 then, like Franklin, let him put his mind continualh' into it. 
 
 There are times when one should consider long and well 
 before he renders a decision. In choosing a business or decid- 
 ing on a place to carry on that business, there are many con- 
 flicting interests to be considered, many delicate points to be 
 examined and weighed; surrounding circumstances are to be 
 put in the scale, and one's own health and culture become 
 controlling factors. Under all conditions it is preferable to 
 take time for consideration — a reasonable time — before the 
 ininc^ is permitted to render its verdict. The man who does 
 tjiis habitually, who decision is a fixity, will find that when 
 the avalanche of circumstances is hurled upon him, on some 
 great occasion, the imminence of the moment will quicken 
 alj, his faculties, and that a year's deliberate thought will 
 drive through his brain on the instant, somewhat as memory 
 
DECISION. 
 
 419 
 
 comes back to a drowning man. At such times vast concep- 
 tions take form with facility. All the details of execution 
 gather together, in rank and file, read}' for action ; and when 
 that sort of thing occurs, decide without dela}', sound the 
 charge, and shout, with Wellington, " Up Guards! and at 
 them." 
 
^Tj;p]4^]^ c^. vncil^^?>■ 
 
 Men who their duties know, 
 But know their rights, and knowing dare maintain, 
 
 Prevent the long aimed blow, 
 And crush the tyrant, whilp they rend the chain, 
 
 These constitute he state, 
 
 — Sir Williim Jones, 
 
|[fepki> }u j\o\\^\f 
 
 T is interesting to notice in the struggles which have 
 convulsed our country and tried our institutions, how 
 so many of the men who have been laborers in 
 these great scenes did not come upon the arena filtered 
 through generations of scholars and statesmen, but came 
 unheralded, save with the advantages which a democratic 
 republic offers to every citizen. 
 
 The majority of the foremost men of America in 
 every calling are the legitimate sons of democracy. That 
 hard Spartan mother trained them early on her black broth 
 to her fatigues, and wrestlings, and watchings, and gave them 
 their shields on entering the battle of life with onl}- the Spar- 
 tan mother's brief: " With this, or upon this." Native 
 force raised Clay to the position of the leader of a great party ; 
 business sagacity supported by an unbending purpose made 
 Greene a capitalist; moving under the behests of kindred 
 qualities created Stewart a merchant prince; the aggressive 
 advocacy of a great principle enthroned Lincoln, the world's 
 ideal of a pure statesman; and the working of the same gen- 
 erous laws, that permits each toiler to carve a destiny for 
 himself, saw Stephen A. Douglas write his name with the 
 deathless erreat. 
 
422 THE GENIUS OF INDUSTMT. 
 
 The early years of Mr. Douglas present a fair average of 
 advantages and struggles incident to the American youth. 
 His father, Dr. Stephen A. Douglas, resided at Brandon, 
 Vermont, w^here, on the 23d of April, 18 13, Stephen was 
 born. Sitting one day with his infant son, now two months 
 old, and his daughter on his lap, the Doctor, without warning, 
 died suddenly of disease of the heart. An unmarried 
 brother living on a farm, kindly took his widowed sister and 
 her two children to his home. Young Stephen received the 
 training accorded to farmer boys. He worked on the farm 
 after arriving at a proper age, in the summer season, and 
 attended the district school in the winter. About the time 
 he reached his fifteenth year, he became anxious to enter 
 the academy, in order that he might prepare for college. 
 He had always looked to his uncle as a child to a father, 
 scarcely recognizing that he was not his father, and asked 
 for the means to defra}' his expenses at the academy. His 
 uncle had married some time previous, and an heir had been 
 born in his own house, whose advent naturally disarranged 
 all the old plans. 
 
 There had been an understanding in the family that as 
 Stephen had no estate, he should be educated and given 
 that which, If he had the metal of a man, would be of more 
 value than a patrimony. The proposed education having 
 grown upon Stephen ever since his earliest recollection, it 
 never occurred to him that his uncle's marriage changed 
 their respective relations. His uncle treated him affec- 
 tionately, and remonstrated against the foil}' of abandoning 
 the farm for the uncertainties of a profession, and gently 
 intimated that his own children would require his chief 
 financial attention. Stephen's eyes were now opened to his 
 real condition in life. His mother had a few hundred dol- 
 
STEPHEN A. DOUGLAS. 423 
 
 lars, but he refused to accept that, for the time would 
 possibly come when she would need it, and he could not 
 repay it. He saw that, if he remained on the farm until he 
 was twenty-one, as the family desired, he would then be 
 turned out upon the world without either a trade or a pro- 
 fession. He therefore decided, as his mother and sister for 
 the present had a good home with his uncle, that he woiild 
 go to town and learn a trade, as the most certain means of 
 earning a support. He accordingly told the families his 
 decision, and on the following morning bid good-bye to the 
 relations, and with a sad but determined heart started to 
 Middlebur}'. Before night he was regularly indentured as 
 an apprentice. 
 
 He worked here for two years, and displayed remarkable 
 mechanical skill as a cabinet maker; especially in the finer 
 parts of the work he exhibited artistic taste. He developed 
 a love for the work that amounted almost to a passion; he 
 was as greatly given over to choice bits of cabinet art as 
 Stephenson to his steam engine. But the small and delicate 
 physical frame of the young mechanic was unable to bear 
 the continued labor of the shop. The thought of abandon- 
 ing the trade in which all his hope and pride had been 
 centered, came to him as a cruel blow. He worked on, 
 going to the shop when he was scarcely able to walk there, 
 cherishing the hope that his illness was onl}' temporary, and 
 finally abandoned it only at the command of his physician. 
 
 There is in a mechanical calling, to a man who has a gift 
 for it, something quite as fascinating as the professions. 
 Very few men who have risen from the shop to the forum 
 but have looked back to the early da}'s in their trade as the 
 happiest season of their years. Elihu Burrit never lost his 
 love for the anvil. He had a tendency to dig into languages, 
 
424 TEE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 but as great a passion to hammer iron into horse-shoes. 
 Robert Collyer says, if it wasn't for the good he tries to do 
 in the pulpit, he would still be found at the old stand blow- 
 ing the forge. Brown, the shoemaker, was of the opinion 
 that " a good mechanic was the most independent man in 
 the world." He always has a market for his wares, and if 
 ordinarily diligent he may be useful, live free from care, 
 supporting his family in comfort with a small saving each 
 week, which in their turn add confidence and happiness to 
 his toil. 
 
 Hugh IVIiller, after fifteen years as a journe}-man stone 
 mason, giving his experience, says: "Let me state, for it 
 seems to be very much the fashion to draw dolorous pictures 
 of the condition of the laboring classes, that from the close 
 of the first year in which I worked as a journeyman until I 
 took final leave of the mallet and chisel, I never knew what 
 it was to want a shilling; that my two uncles, m^' grand- 
 father and the mason with whom I served my apprentice- 
 ship — all workingmen — had had a siinilar experience; and 
 that it was the experience of my father also. I can not 
 doubt that deserving mechanics ma}^ in exceptional cases, 
 be exposed to want ; but I can as little doubt that the cases 
 are exceptional, and that much of the sufl^ering of the class 
 is a consequence either of improvidence on the part of the 
 competently skilled, or of a course of trifling during the 
 term of apprenticeship, quite as common as trifling at 
 school, that alwavs lands those who indulge in it in the 
 hapless position of the inferior workmen." 
 
 The force of merit makes its way in the shop as in the 
 profession. It is only merit that maintains its success in any 
 calling. There ma}*, in long intervals, be a case of merit 
 that adverse circumstances never permit to come to prefer- 
 
STEPHEN A. DOUGLAS. 425 
 
 ment, but these examples are rare. The demands of every 
 industry call skill to the front, and the mechanics of our 
 country are now placed on so high a scale that a skilful 
 workman earns more per year than the average lawyer or 
 ph3-sician. jNIechanics is no longer blind toil in physical 
 strength, but it is the art of supplementing the muscles of 
 the body with the sense of the brain. To do this deftly is 
 skill. No common lout can be a railroad engineer. Any 
 man can oil the engine and pull the throttle open and shut, 
 but the clear eye, the steady nerve, and the trusty judgment 
 on whose instantaneous decisions the peril of a thousand lives 
 are suspended every da}', are the distinguishing marks that 
 make the engineer — and give him his handsome salary. 
 The openings to fields of usefulness and renown in mechan- 
 ics are quite as inviting as in an}' other sphere of lite. They 
 carry with them the additional assurance of large financial 
 compensations. 
 
 Pullman was an ordinary mechanic; but he accepted the 
 invitation of his brain, and gave the world his palace cars, 
 which make traveling no longer a drudge; and a patroniz- 
 ing public has made him a millionaire. So McCormick 
 worked with farm machinery, until he "fell " on to the idea 
 of the mower and reaper. He pursued it with the labor of 
 his own hands until he brought the famous har\-ester to per- 
 fection, and never abandoned the general superintendence of 
 the "work." Like Pullman, it has brought him name and 
 wealth. John Sineaton, the great engineer, rebelled against 
 being educated to the law, for which place his father, a bar- 
 rister, intended him. Finally, from the persistent failure at 
 school, the father was persuaded to let the boy have his 
 way. The hum of machinery was music to his ear. A 
 complicated piece of mechanism was his delight. He would 
 
426 TEE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 work over a boy's drag-cart with all the enthusiasm Raphjel 
 ever threw into his brush. He had a mechanical inclina- 
 tion. He also had an industry which was equal to his 
 abilit}'. A predilection is of little value unless this motor 
 accompanies it. Smeaton paid such an intelligent attention 
 to mechanics that a member of the Royal Societ}' proposed 
 him for membership, to which he was unanimously elected. 
 When the Eddystone lighthouse fell the third time this 
 same member recommended him to the Government as a 
 man who could defy the waves and build a lighthouse that 
 would stand. He was commissioned to that important 
 task, and completed the wonderful engineering feat to the 
 satisfaction of sailors, and the admiration of all builders. 
 Wedded to his trade, as the old painter to his works, Mr. 
 Smeaton never consented to rest on his reputation or revel 
 in his accumulated wealth, but up to the last da3-s of a long 
 life he visited his shops and superintended his works, often 
 constructing the more delicate and intricate parts himself, for 
 the very love of it, conscious of what he could accomplish at 
 his trade and ambitious to hew along its rough way results 
 like some of the great toilers who had moved before him in 
 mechanics. 
 
 Young Douglas felt that a shadow had settled over 
 his life. Thoughts of an education now began to return 
 to him. The young man who seeks a profession because a 
 trade is not dignifying is not very likely to dignify a profes- 
 sion. Colleges are being filled with the sons of farmers and 
 mechanics preparing to become professional men. Many of 
 these have no definite promptings toward any learned 
 calling. A desire to avoid calloused hands is the spur 
 to their studies. They are doomed to a half-star^'ed busi- 
 ness and a career of perpetual disappointment. If the}' had 
 
STEPHEN A. DOUGLAS. 427 
 
 opened their sails to the breeze of nature they would ha\-e 
 been landed in a less toilsome vocation, and one eminently 
 more satishing and paying. 
 
 When Stephen A. Douglas left the cabinet shop with 
 tearful eyes he showed the metal of the boy. He was pos- 
 sessed of a vigorous ambition, but not a foolish longing for 
 vain glory. He had a quenchless desire to succeed in his 
 undertaking. Genuine ambition moves the worker to heroic 
 exertions at his calling, fills him with a thirst for all knowl- 
 edge that pertains to it, and drives him on to the attainment 
 of its highest excellence. An ambition short of this is a 
 weak and hollow vanit}', that builds without excellence, 
 that seeks without knowledge, and asks renown without the 
 heroism of toil. The qualities of Douglas with the plane 
 were the qualities of Jean Paul's sentiment, to "make as 
 much out of himself as could be made out of the stuff"." 
 
 Stephen now sought to make arrangements to enter the 
 academy of his native town. By economy of the most 
 marked character he had saved sufficient money from his 
 two years apprenticeship to pay his way at this school for 
 one year. He returned to Brandon and began his studies. A 
 few weeks of visiting and rest had recuperated his energies, 
 so he was enabled to pursue his studies with his wonted 
 enthusiasm. His mind was well stored with general inform- 
 ation. His father was a gentleman of learning and had 
 collected an extensive librar}'; from this Stephen had found 
 instruction almost as valuable as a course in the academy. 
 He was a rapid reader and possessed a most retenti\-e 
 memory. Pitt's feat of listening six hours to debate without 
 taking a note and replying to the speakers and their argu- 
 ments seriah')/?, came through long years of practice. The 
 burning zeal of Douglas to obtain knowledge answered in his 
 
i28 THE GENIUS OF IKDUSTMT. 
 
 case the place of years of training. What he read he never 
 forgot. AVliat was once told him never needed a repeti- 
 tion. 
 
 While working at his trade, worn out when evening came 
 on, he would lie on his bed and read until long alter his mas- 
 ter's household were all asleep. The knowledge of history 
 and philosophy thus gained he was enabled to use years af- 
 terward in his speeches. Few people are able to read man}' 
 books to profit. Hazlitt could not, neither could Coleridge, 
 but Dr. Johnson devoured books as he did beefsteak, in quan- 
 tities that perplexed his house keeper. Most persons read 
 more than they are ever able to utilize, and it lays on their 
 minds a burdensome mass, disorganizing the things the}' do 
 know. Knowledge is power, but it must be knowledge that 
 can be used. 
 
 In the meantime the widow Douglas had married Gehazi 
 Granger, and Stephen, at the earnest solicitation of his mother 
 and step-father, removed with them to their home near Can- 
 andaigua, New York. He at once became a student in the 
 academy at that place. This was an institution that had for 
 half a century supported a reputation for thoroughness of course 
 second to none in the country. A large number of eminent 
 professional men and statesmen had received their collegiate 
 training here; from it the young student had hope of com- 
 pleting the education he had dreamed of so tbndl}' in his earl- 
 ier days. Mr. Granger was not a gentleman of means, but 
 he treated his stepson with a generosity he could scarcely 
 aftbrd, keeping him at his house and supplying all his wants 
 during the three years Stephen attended the academy. The 
 son proved himself worthy of his fatherly consideration. An 
 energy was given to the school course that gave him first 
 rank in recitations and proficiency ; during this period he was 
 
STEPHEX A. DOUGLAS. 429 
 
 also a student in HubbelPs la\v office. At that time New 
 York required a course of seven 3-ears to entitle a student to 
 be admitted to practice law, four j'ears of which might be 
 occupied in classical studies. 
 
 Mr. Douglas on an examination of his course of stud}- was 
 allowed a credit of three years for his classical attainments, 
 leaving four years only as the period which he would be re- 
 quired to continue as law student to admit him to the bar of 
 the State. He now turned his attention directly to the study 
 of law, in the evenings and through the day, taking his 
 rest and recreation in a change of study, by pursuing his col- 
 legiate course. At the end of the four years he had mastered 
 the remainder of the curriculum so that he could have passed 
 examination. Doug'las fitted the description gi\'en b}' Beau- 
 mont of De Tocqueville: " His nature was wholly averse to 
 idleness, and whether he was traveling or resting, his mind 
 was alwa}'s at work." Industry is one of the richest gifts of 
 nature; without it genius is barren of worthy fruit, and with 
 it mediocrity becomes lustrous. Tocqueville himself wrote 
 to a friend: "There is no time of life at which one can 
 wholly cease from action; for effort without one's self, and 
 still more, effort within, is equalh' necessary, if not more so', 
 when we grow old, as it is in youth. I compare man in this 
 world to a traveler journe3'ing without ceasing towards a 
 colder and colder region; the higher he goes, the faster he 
 ought to walk. The great malady of the soul is cold. And 
 in resisting this formidable evil, one needs not only to be sus- 
 tained by the action of a mind employed, but also by contact 
 with one's fellows in the business of life." 
 
 In England it is considered quite a feat of toil, and triumph 
 of intellect, for one of humble origin to rise to the House of 
 Commons and take his seat side b}' side with the hereditary 
 
430 THE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 gentry of the land. When Brotherton, discussing in true 
 pathos the hardships of the workmen in the factories, de- 
 tailed his own struggles there, Sir James Graham, amid the 
 cheers of the House, announced that he was proud to sit with 
 a man who had worked his way from so humble a beginning. 
 In our country the labor and the attainments necessar}^ to 
 obtain public recognition are incomparably less than in the 
 lands of hereditary caste. Nevertheless the most illustrious 
 achievements wrought by the citizens of the old world have 
 been the handiwork of names that bore no coat of arms. 
 
 A heraldic title is a banner handed down to tell what the 
 family have done; the plain and homely John Jones is a carte- 
 blanche., on which to exhibit what can be done. The owner 
 of the unadorned name knocks at the door of attainments, 
 and if refused admittance, batters it down by a chcf-cToeuvre., 
 and pushes on to its sublime achievements; the titled usually 
 send up their cards, and if denied entrance go off on a fox 
 chase. 
 
 The spurs have always been worn b}' the workers; wealth 
 and illustrious ancestrage are only a favorable introduction 
 to opportunity. To seize the opportunity is everything. 
 The toiler, who has nothing to rely upon but his work and 
 his wits, is keenly alive to the tide that rises in the affairs of 
 men, and makes the best of whatever comes to his hands. 
 "Work and wit of his own hand and head," Humphrey 
 Davy said, " was what had made him what he was." An 
 e3'e to the main chance, like Vanderbilt, and an earnestness 
 that would accept the most trifling stepping stone and build 
 it into a tower, brought Pierre Ramus to scholarship and 
 authority. He was the son of poor parents in Picardy, and 
 when a boy, was employed to tend sheep. But not liking 
 sheep tending he ran away to Paris. After passing through 
 
STEPHEN A. DOUGLAS. 431 
 
 great miser}', he entered the College of Navarre as a ser- 
 vant. The situation opened to him the road to learning, 
 he accepted it with all the sacrifices and demands it made 
 upon him, and shortly became one of the most distinguished 
 men of his time. A writer tells of " the chemist Vauquelin, 
 the son of a peasant of St. Andre d'Herbetot, in the Cal- 
 \ados. When a boy at school, though poorly clad, he was 
 full of bright intelligence; and the master who taught him 
 to read and write, when praising him for his diligence, used 
 to say, 'Go on, my boy; work, study, Colin, and one day 
 you will go as well dressed as the parish church warden! ' " 
 A country apothecary who visited the school admired the 
 robust boy's arms, and offered to take him into his labora- 
 tory to pound the drugs, to which Vauquelin assented, in 
 the hope of being able to continue his lessons. But the 
 apothecary would not permit him to spend any part of his 
 time in learning; and on ascertaining this, the youth immedi- 
 ately determined to quit his service. He therefore left St. 
 Andre and took the road for Paris with his haversack on 
 his back. Arrived there, he searched for a place as apothe- 
 cary's boy, but could not find one. Worn out by fatigue 
 and destitution, Vauquelin fell ill, and in that state was taken 
 to the hospital, where he thought he should die. But better 
 things were in store for the poor bo}^ He recovered, and 
 again proceeded in his search for employment, which he at 
 length found with an apothecary. Shortly after he became 
 known to Fourcroy, the eminent chemist, who was so pleased 
 with the youth that he made him his private secretary; and 
 many years after, on the death of that great philosopher, 
 Vauquelin succeeded him as Professor of Chemistry. 
 Finally, in 1829, the electors of the district of Calvados 
 appointed him their representative in the Chamber of Depu- 
 
432 TUE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 ties, and he re-entered in triumpli the village which he had 
 loll so man}- years befoi^e so poor and so obscure. 
 
 The re-election of General Jackson took place in 1S32, 
 while Mr. Douglas was attending his law studies. The 
 animated condition of politics in that campaign infused some 
 of its heat into man\" \'oung men who were not 3"et voters. 
 Douglas was caught by the nation's wide deluge of dis- 
 cussion, and became imbued with the Jacksonian side of 
 politics, as thoroughl}' as he had been enrapt in his legal 
 studies. He never ventured a public address during the 
 campaign, but he was a ceaseless talker whenever he could 
 find social listeners. It was during this time he united with 
 a debating club and made his first speeches. These debates 
 were remarkable chiefly lor the information and the impas- 
 sioned earnestness displayed b}' the }"oung orator. 
 
 A gentleman who was a fellow student with Douglas at 
 that time, says: "He was recognized and admitted to be 
 the politician of the circle; and though the students were of 
 all political parties, to Douglas was conceded the distinction 
 of being the best posted student in the place. Indeed, a 
 taste for politics was evidenced at an early da^•. It is stated 
 that one of his earliest essaj's in behalf of the Denrocratic 
 party was the organization of a band of 'Jackson boys ' in 
 Vermont, who proclaimed a war upon the ' Coffin hand- 
 bills,' and who managed to destroy those placards as soon 
 as the}' appeared on the walls and fences of the town." 
 
 In June, 1833, Mr. Douglas, then twenty years of age, 
 left Canandaigua to earn his own livelihood. He had no 
 definite location selected. He saw the crowded condition 
 of the professions in the East, and believed there was 
 unclaimed territory for energy and industry in the valley of 
 the.lNIississippi. Provided with a small sum of mone}' and 
 
STEPHEN' A. DOUOLAS. 433 
 
 two suits of clothes, he once more bid home adieu, and took 
 his course westward. 
 
 From liis earhest childliood Mr. Douglas had subsisted on 
 some friend's generosity, knowing that it might be with- 
 drawn at any time. He had grown up with a continued 
 sense that he must be self-dependent; that this kindness 
 could not extend farther than the years of youth. It was 
 the kindly hand that was tempering him for any fate. He 
 grasped his carpet satchel and with his few dollars started 
 through the open gate of self-reliance, without a regret or a 
 fear. Disabled by the kick of a horse and confined to the 
 house for some time Walter Scott decided he would become 
 an author. His friends thought he had better stay in the 
 quartermaster's department. But he threw himself into the 
 work with such vigor that in three days he had composed 
 the first canto of " The Lay of the Last Minstrel," which he 
 shortly after finished — his first great work. From this he 
 wrote resolutely on, turning off more pages of manuscript 
 each day than any man who has ever written. Douglas 
 made a virtue of his necessity and turned to his self-depend- 
 ence with a cheery confidence. There are some natures 
 that the knowledge of necessity turn to cowards. As long 
 as they are conscious of a reserve upon which they can fall 
 back if repulsed they move forward with courage, but they 
 are never able to stand alone; in the \ery face of victory, 
 like Keats, the}' will turn and fly. 
 
 Arriving at Cleveland, Mr. Douglas made the acquaint- 
 ance of Sherlock J. Andrews. Mr. Andrews, after an hour's 
 conversation with the young man, discussing the opening in 
 the West, became so favorably impressed with his zeal that 
 he advised him to remain in Cleveland, and tendered 
 the use of his own library and office to the young barrister. 
 
434 THE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 as it required one year's study within that State to admit 
 one to the bar. Mr. Andrews further supplemented his 
 HberaHty with the offer of a junior partnership. An oppor- 
 tunity of sucli promise overcame his resolution for the West, 
 and he settled in Cleveland. Within a week he was 
 prostrated with a fever, and four months elapsed before he 
 was able to leave his room. During his convalescence his 
 physician advised his return home, as the disease would 
 doubtless attack him again in the spring if he remained in 
 that locality. Under these circumstances he decided to 
 leave Cleveland; but not to return home. He had told the 
 friends at home that he would not come back until he was 
 firmly established in business. He would move further 
 west. 
 
 He left Cleveland on a canal boat and finally reached 
 Cincinnati. Here he spent a week in seeking employment 
 by which he could support himself until his recruited health 
 would permit a return to the law office. His money was 
 running short, and he determined to try Louisville. Here a 
 week's effort ended in failure. Nothing daunted he pushed 
 on westward, taking a boat for St. Louis. Arriving in the 
 city he formed the acquaintance of Edward Bates, who 
 offered the use of his library and office until he could get 
 into practice on his own account. The 3-oung man counted 
 his mone}', and found the store too much reduced to take 
 his chances, even with an office furnished him, and once 
 more resolved to seek a new field. He had read a book of 
 travel b}' a Scotchman, in which was a glowing description 
 of Jacksonville, Illinois, and he determined to make an 
 effort to find emplo}"ment there. He learned the cost 
 of the trip and found he had barely enough money to carry 
 him there by stage. He felt too feeble to walk, so, risking 
 
STEPHEN A. DOUGLAS, 435 
 
 all, he bought his ticket, going b}- boat as far as he could, 
 and completing the journe}' by stage, which latter was 
 almost as fatiguing as walking. He arrived in Jacksonville 
 and got out of the stage, having thirty-seven cents left. He 
 visited the schools, but no teacher was needed; he went to 
 the law offices, but none required an assistant; he called at 
 every store in town and offered for his board and lodging, 
 but none wanted a clerk. His delicate and wasted form 
 and pale and anxious face appealed to sympathy. He 
 received a generous amount of sympathy, but none of it was 
 the kind that helps a boy along who needs work. To settle 
 his lodging bill he parted with some of his books. He had 
 clung to them as a worshiper to his idols. With tears in 
 his eyes for the first time at the wreck of his hopes, 
 he gave up his books. He was pushed to the extremit}' of 
 want. Sick, friendless, penniless, and without emplo3'ment, 
 he could stay there no longer. 
 
 In the heroism of despair he. took up his lightened satchel 
 and started on foot for Winchester. He received an occa- 
 sional rest by some farmer's kindness, who permitted him to 
 ride in his wagon. He reached Winchester dinnerless. Dr. 
 Johnson, on entering London, signed himself "Impransus" — 
 dinnerless. All his learning could not bu}' him a dinner. 
 When a man has an empty purse, and an empty stomach, 
 his learning appears to be an empty thing too. It is very 
 difficult for learning to be appreciated, or put in the channel 
 of earnings unless it has some material assistance. The 
 world looks on learning as a .very immaterial thing, only 
 recognizing it as a negative quantit3% until out of its own 
 self it has demonstrated that it is of some practical use. 
 
 The avenues of all the industries are worked to the 'com- 
 mon end of gain. Any part that refuses to return a profit 
 
436 THE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 is soon struck from the pa}--roll. In these Litter da3-s the 
 world closes its ears, even to the philosophers, unless the}' 
 materialize some project that will help on the general use. 
 There are scholars whose learning is so great that they can 
 labor only in the exclusive high spheres. There are college 
 professors with large salaries, who, if by some misfortune 
 were thrown out among strangers with their "Prof." no 
 longer attached, would fail as clerks, and could not succeed 
 as district school teachers. Such characters go lamely 
 through life. 
 
 An education which fits its possessor for one exclusive 
 sphere is a cumbrous acquisition. To be educated is to 
 have all the powers rendered so supple, they can turn readily 
 to any calling, and developed to such sinew they can pui'sue 
 it with vigor, and without weariness. The common expe- 
 rience of beginners is to stop for a season at some pursuit 
 that kindly presents itself to their necessities, and after they 
 have made needed accumulations, or arrangements have 
 been perfected, to go forward to their life business. To be 
 trained to an unwieldiness that will not permit this, is in 
 many instances to be effectually barred from the ultimate 
 calling. The cabinet maker, when his work is slack, who 
 will sit around and refuse to work for good wages at the 
 carpenter's trade, because he didn't learn that trade, is not 
 very likely to be a money-making workman at his own 
 trade. There is a cruel necessity, that is not always to be 
 controlled, which sometimes breaks up chosen channels of 
 emploj'ment, the victims are thrown on their own resources, 
 to once more begin their living from a new industry; to 
 push into it with heartiness is a talent as valuable as 
 genius. 
 
 In the morning after his arrival at Winchester young 
 
STEPHEN A. DOUGLAS. 437 
 
 Douglas began his search for emplo3'ment. As he ap- 
 proached the square, he saw a crowd of persons assembled, 
 and curiosity led him to the spot. A merchant had died, 
 and his stock of goods was to be sold at auction that morn- 
 ing. The hour for the sale had come, and the crier was 
 there, but no one could be found competent to act as clerk. 
 As the young stranger approached, it was suggested that he 
 might be able to " read, write and cipher." The adminis- 
 trator told him their embarrassment and begged his services, 
 and oftered to pay him two dollars a da}' for his work. The 
 ofier was accepted. It was an Aladdin's lamp thrust into his 
 hands as he reached the edge of despair. The young clerk, 
 with feelings of happiness he could never express, took his 
 place. He was yet six months of twenty-one years of age, 
 and did not look to be over sixteen. That frontier assembly 
 looked at him in admiration as he tabulated the sales and 
 called out the amounts. The auction lasted three days. The 
 promptness with which the clerk discharged his duties won 
 him the favorable opinion of all parties; in addition to this 
 the readiness he manifested in* talking on political subjects 
 attracted much attention. The political tight of General 
 Jackson was as warm here as it was in the East. The 
 earnestness with which the stranger defended "Old Hick- 
 or}-," made him a favorite with that party at once. Few 
 of the old farmers were able to argue the case with the 
 Bankites; finding so able an advocate in Douglas, the}' vol- 
 untered to assist him in anything that was in their power. 
 He frankly told them, he had come west to make his home 
 and fortune, and his present want was a school. 
 
 His new found friends decided that he must not leave 
 their locality, and in a few days had him a school of forty 
 pupils at three dollars each per quarter. He entered upon 
 
438 THE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 his duties at once. He devoted his evenings and leisure 
 time to the study of law-books, and on Saturda3's acted as 
 counsel before the Justice's Court. He had so carefully 
 economized his salary as teacher and the receipts from his 
 justice's practice, that at the end of the three months' term 
 he removed to Jacksonville, vs^here he opened a law ofBce. 
 On the fourth day of March, 1834, then lacking sev'en weeks 
 of his majority, he was licensed as an attorney. The 
 excitement of the Jackson " Bank Question," was the 
 all-pervading topic of politics. Parties were designated 
 "Jackson Party " and "Opposition." The hostile feeling 
 extended to all the relations of life. Social and business 
 intercourse was confined, as far as practicable, to political 
 friends. To be a political opponent was to a great extent 
 to be a personal enem\-. At Jacksonville the supporters of 
 the bank policy of the administration were very few. In 
 the absence of daily papers and the later adjuncts of civiliza- 
 tion for disseminating news, the population of each district of 
 territory trading at a count}' seat was in the habit of gather- 
 ing at their capital on Saturdays to transact business and 
 talk politics. The Jackson party, being in the minority in 
 this section, gathered information and courage at such 
 times. Saturday became a seventh-day political jubilee 
 with them. 
 
 The Douglas law office soon became the place of resort, 
 and Douglas the political cynosure of all eyes. In consulta- 
 tion it was there decided to hold a public meeting to test the 
 question whether General Jackson was to be entirely aban- 
 doned or heartily supported. It was considered a hazardous 
 experiment, the business men feeling the people would not 
 turn out to sustain the President under the existing panic. 
 The ultra men forced the meeting and billed the country 
 
STEPUEN A. DOUGL^tS. 439 
 
 for miles around. A resolution was prepared, endorsing the 
 policy or the President in refusing to re-charter the bank 
 and in removing the deposits — two points upon which thous- 
 ands of Democrats ditfered from the administration. The 
 majority of Democrats thought a bank of some kind 
 indispensable, and the other side declared the charter of 
 such an institution to be clearly unconstitutional. When 
 the day of meeting arrived, the Court House was thronged. 
 It was a larger concourse of people than had ever assembled 
 in Jacksonville before. Mr. Douglas had declined to offer the 
 resolutions, but when the hour of meeting arrived, and the 
 windows were taken out of the Court room to enable those 
 ^tside in the square to hear the proceedings within, the 
 gentleman who had accepted the duty of presenting the reso- 
 lutions, handed them to Douglas, and told him that now 
 was the time to make an impression, and he inust lead the 
 fight for the resolutions. The task was accepted, and the 
 resolutions offered and supported in a brief explanatory 
 speech. Josiah Lamborn, a lawyer of reputation, a Whig, 
 and a speaker of much force, followed in opposition to the 
 resolutions. He referred in caustic terms to Mr. Douglas, 
 and flatly contradicted some of his statements. At the 
 close of this speech calls were made for Douglas. He 
 arose and settled the question of fact by calling upon several 
 Whigs who declared Lamborn to be wrong. He then ad- 
 dressed himself to the question involved; he exposed the 
 positions taken by Lamborn so completely that that gentle- 
 man precipitately left the room; the flight of Lamborn 
 completed the capture of the audience; the speaker waxed 
 warm with his subject, and the hearers responded in rounds 
 of applause. The excitement reached the highest point of 
 endurance, cheer upon cheer was given with hearty vigor at 
 
440 THE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 the close; the effect was irresistible; the crowd swayed to 
 and fro to get near the orator; at length he was seized by 
 them, and borne on the shoulders and upheld by the hands 
 of the enthusiastic assembly, was carried out of the Court 
 House and around the public square, amid shouts for "Jack- 
 son and Douglas." That day he received the title of the 
 "Little Giant." 
 
 That speech turned the tide of sentiment in Morgan 
 county and settled its political majorit}' for many years. 
 The history of this meeting was published throughout the 
 State and created a great desire to hear the young David 
 that had made Lamborn run. The people of the first judi- 
 cial district expressed a desire to have the 3"oung law3'er 
 elected prosecuting attornc}-, the Legislature reflected this 
 desire the following winter, and INIr. Douglas was chosen by 
 the vote of that body. He was elected over Hardin, a dis- 
 tinguished jurist, and many feared it was a mistake, while 
 the friends of Hardin felt it an outrage. One of the judges 
 of the Supreme Court denounced the selection. " What 
 business," he asked, " has such a stripling with such an 
 office? He is no lawyer and has no law books." But the 
 3-oung prosecutor was not long in proving that the election 
 was a very proper one. 
 
 An incident that took place during the early days of his 
 attorneyship will illustrate the difficulties he had to encounter 
 and the promptness and energy with which he met and con- 
 \-erted what was intended as a painful humiliation into a proud 
 personal and professional triumph. It was his first term in 
 M'Lean county. There had been some local law violated, 
 and the number of offenders was numerous. The attorney 
 proceeded in the discharge of his duty with great zeal. He 
 sat up all night writing his indictments, and actuall}' closed 
 
STEPHEN A. DOUGLAS. 441 
 
 the business in a short time. The grand jury found the bills 
 as prepared and were forthwith discharged. The bar having 
 obtained a hint that the new attorney was to be caught and 
 publicly disgraced, waited the denouement with anxiety. 
 The morning after the grand jury had been discharged the 
 crisis came. A meinber .of the bar, one of" the most dis- 
 tinguished lawyers of the State, at the opening of the court 
 mdved to quash all the indictments found at that term, fifty 
 in number, on the ground that they alleged the offenses 
 charged in them as having been committed in "M'Clean 
 County," a county unknown to the laws of the State of Illi- 
 nois," the county in which the Court was then sitting, and 
 in which the parties were residing being "M'Lean County." 
 In other words, that the prosecuting attorney had misspelled 
 the name of the county. The objection, if valid, was a 
 fatal one; and the grand jury having been discharged, 
 there was no opportunity to correct the error in spelling. 
 Not a lawj-er at the bar could see how the objection was to 
 be overcome. 
 
 The motion was an entire surprise to the prosecutor — at 
 least he so expressed hiinself He insisted that before the 
 court should decide the question, the original act of the Leg- 
 islature establishing the county should be produced; when 
 that was done, he informed the court he would possibly have 
 something to say on the motion. This was said with so 
 much confidence and earnestness, and the position taken 
 was so correct that the Court decided that the prosecutor 
 was entitled to what he had asked, and as the proof was eas- 
 ily obtained, the counsel should produce the act establishing 
 the count}'. A number of acts of the Legislature were pro- 
 duced, all referring to the count}' as "McLean County," and 
 the evidence that that was the proper legal name of the county, 
 
442 THE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 and had been so recognized through years of legislation, was 
 o\er\vhelming. No copy of the statute establishing the 
 county could be found in Bloomington. Mr. Douglas insisted 
 that the name of the county could only be determined legally 
 b}' the recital of that act. 
 
 That night, and the next day and evening, the legal fra- 
 ternity, including jurors, witnesses, and litigants, were made 
 merry over jocular criticisms upon schoolmasters turned law- 
 yers, and schoolmasters being unable to spell the name of 
 one of the largest counties in the State. ]\Ir. Douglas kept 
 his own counsel. His friends could not understand the cour- 
 age with which he met the motion, nor the boldness with 
 which he repelled every open assault. They imputed his de- 
 fiant tone to bravado, and his demand for the statute as a 
 mere excuse for delay, to gain time in which to make up his 
 mind whether to resign his office and leave the State, or to 
 go back to teaching school. In the meantime messengers had 
 been sent to Peoria and elsewhere for a copy of the acts of 
 1S30-1. The one party was confident that it? produc- 
 tion would be the last nail in the professional coffin of an 
 aspiring individual who, a few months ago had defeated one 
 of the best lawyers in the State, and had attained the best at- 
 torneyship in the gift of the Legislature. The court was in 
 session when the messengers returned; one glance at the 
 book, and counsel rose and asked the court to dispose of the 
 motion to quash the indictments. All was excitement. The 
 State's attorney had also glanced at the book. He rose as 
 defiant as ever, and demanded the reading of the statute. 
 Lawyers crowded round the counsel who held the statute in 
 his hand, and were perfectly astounded at the effronter}' of 
 the prosecutor. 
 
 Profert of the statute was made; the court asked counsel 
 
STEPHEN A. DOUGLAS. i43 
 
 to read it, and counsel read, amid profound silence, the words 
 "An act to establish McLean County," and turned triumph- 
 antl}' toward the attorney of the State. That gentleman, 
 instead of being annihilated by the manner, or by the words 
 read, quietly stated that the title of the act was not the act 
 itself, and demanded that the whole act should be read. The 
 court said that counsel must, as it was demanded, read the 
 statute. He at once read the first section: " Sec. i. Be it 
 enacted by the people of the State of Illinois, represented in 
 the General Assembl}', that all that part of country lying 
 within the following boundaries, to-wit. Beginning," etc., 
 etc., "shall constitute a new county, to be called McLean." 
 There was a pause — a suspension of public opinion — and the 
 silence was broken by the demand of the prosecutor that the 
 other sections be read. Section 2 did not contain the name 
 of the county; section 3 repeated it twice, and each time bv 
 the name of Mc Lean; section 6 and last named Bloomington 
 as the "seat of justice of said county of M'Clean." The 
 attorney, in drawing his indictment, had omitted the 
 apostrophe, and capitalized the C, using a small 1. He 
 had employed the exact letters of the bod}- of the stat- 
 ute.; the other side, seeing a capital C, a small 1, and no 
 apostrophe, had been caught in the very trap in which 
 they thought the attorney had placed himself. The 
 motion was overruled. The laugh was on the other side, 
 and the crowd, now regarding the whole thing as a most dex- 
 terous plan deliberately laid by the prosecutor to catch the 
 able lawyers with whom he had to contend, gave him an 
 applause and a credit vastly increased in enthusiasm by the 
 previous impression that he had been thoroughly victimized 
 by his opponents. 
 
 The following year Mr. Douglas was elected to the Legis- 
 
444 THE OE^''IUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 lature. He was an acti\e member, participating largely in 
 the discussions of the session. During this session Mr. Doug- 
 las unfolded to the Democratic leaders his scheme for organ- 
 izing the party in the State. No State convention of either 
 party had ever been held in Illinois. The convention was 
 called, the State organization was perfected, developing a 
 like system in each county. Thus organized through the ef- 
 fort of ]\Ir. Douglas, the ranks of the part}' in Illinois stood 
 unbroken and unconquered for nearly a quarter of a century. 
 
hflm \ '\\u^^. 
 
 (mmvm 
 
 R. DOUGLAS bv this time began to comprehend 
 that his native heath was poHtics. Of an earnest 
 and impetuous temper for what he deemed right, 
 and wedded to the principles of Democracy by all the 
 instincts of his being, his enthusiasm for its cause knew no 
 bounds. The part}' caught the glow of his zeal, and believed 
 his energies would carry them to victory in any contest. In 
 this Congressional District, the year before. General Har- 
 rison had beaten Mr. Van Buren by three thousand votes in 
 the Presidential race; it was evident sterling work would 
 Tae required to overcome such a majorit}'. INIr. Douglas 
 was unanimousl}' chosen for the task. The result was, he 
 came within five votes of an election. The renown he 
 achieved in this contest was as broad as the State; defeated, 
 he was compelled to turn his attention to the law once more. 
 But to remain at the law was impossible. In the great con- 
 test of 1840 his services were in daily demand. He no 
 longer suffered from feeble health, having developed a strong 
 constitution and remarkable power of physical endurance. 
 
 445 
 
'4i6 THE QENIUli OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 From one end of the State to the other the ' ' Little Giant " 
 upheld his part}-'s banner. His reputation as an orator had 
 reached a high point of popularit}-. He had become the 
 most conspicuous figure in the State. 
 
 In 1 84 1 the Legislature, in joint convention, selected five 
 additional judges of the Supreme Court. Mr. Douglas was 
 chosen one of that number. His practice as an attorney 
 had not been large, for his time was chiefly given to politics. 
 But he had evinced a rare talent for law, and was one of the 
 most thoroughly read attoi-neys at the bar of his State. The 
 measures he had advocated or opposed in the Legislature, 
 on their legal aspect, had developed the possession of a pro- 
 found and masterly comprehension of the science of law. 
 That gave him, as an act of justice, one of the first of legal 
 positions — a Supreme Judgeship — and at an age younger 
 than it had ever been bestowed on any other man in the 
 United States. His judicial circuit embraced the Mormon 
 settlement, in which there was a conflict between the 
 " Saints " and "Gentiles." There was an embittered feel- 
 ing between the Mormons and the rest of the people, which 
 had its center in Joe Smith. The Mormons were accused 
 of every crime in the calendar, and Smith was made the 
 universal scape-goat; when he or any of his people escaped 
 conviction at trial, the people held the Court responsible, 
 and the Mormons denounced the Court for always inclining 
 to the oppressors of their race. 
 
 That instantaneous decision and celerity of action, which 
 was the safe guard of Douglas in man}- trying positions in 
 debates, often served him well in those turbulent trials. 
 Once when Joe Smith was on trial for some ofTense, the peo- 
 ple collected in the town from a great distance, of the sur- 
 rounding countr}', determined that a speedy justice should 
 
STEPHEN A. DOUGLAS. 447 
 
 be dealt out in connection with this trial; outrages were 
 being constantly perpetrated, propert}' was stolen, and 
 mysterious murders were of frequent occurrence. The mob 
 proposed to mete out justice on general principles. When 
 it became evident the evidence would not convict, a gallows 
 was hastil}' erected in the court-3'ard, and four hundred men 
 tiled into the court-room to take Smith and hang him. As 
 the mob boisterously crowded to the bar, the Judge ordered 
 the room cleared; the little Sheritf asked the " gentlemen " 
 to keep order and retire, but the crowd pressed on towards 
 the prisoner, and now were almost within reach. Judge 
 Douglas sprang to his feet and commanded a six-foot Ken- 
 tuckian, who was standing by the prisoner, " I appoint you 
 Sheriff of this Court. Clear this Court-room — the law 
 demands it." The newly and rather suddenly appointed 
 Sheriff proceeded to obey orders. The first, second, and 
 third man who approached the prisoner were knocked down. 
 Another who was pushing around by the wall was knocked 
 through a window. The crowd seeing their leaders go 
 down, hesitated, and then turned to the doors. In five 
 minutes the room was cleared. The Judge had no legal 
 power to appoint a Sheriff when the duly elected Sheriff was 
 present, but justice was about to be overthrown by violence 
 and a murder committed; a crime must be prevented and 
 the law enforced; the emergency did not permit a debate 
 on the limits of power to accomplish this; hesitation would 
 seal the prisoner's fate, and a moment's dela}' would be fatal. 
 Like Jackson at New Orleans, he assumed the responsibility 
 required. 
 
 The ability, in the whirl and roar of a great commotion, 
 to see the one thing necessary to do and to do it with 
 promptness and authority, js one of the distinguishing marks 
 
448 THE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 between greatness and mediocrity. This genius to compre- 
 hend the difficulties of an emergenc}' at once, and the 
 diplomacy to solve them on the instant, served Douglas at a 
 later day when a conflict of arms was threatened, and rid 
 the State of a trouble that was growing to serious propor- 
 tions. In the year 1846 the excitement at Nauvoo reached 
 its height. The people were determined to drive the 
 *' Saints " away, and they were as determined to stay. 
 Governor Ford sent a regiment of four hundred and fifty 
 men to keep both belligerents in order. Col. Hardin was 
 in command and Judge Douglas held the post of Major. 
 As the troops advanced on Nauvoo they found the Mormons, 
 four thousand strong, drawn up in line to oppose their entr}' 
 into the city. Hardin halted the troops just out of rifle 
 range, and addressed them: "There are Mormons ten to 
 one against us. They are well armed, but we must attack 
 them. Let an}' man who wishes to go back step to the 
 front." Not a man came forward. " There were, I dare 
 say," says Douglas, "just 451 ot^us, including our Colonel, 
 who would have been glad to have retired; but not 
 one of us had the courage to own that he was a coward." 
 " Major Douglas," said the Colonel, " will take one hundred 
 men, will proceed to Nauvoo, arrest the twelve apostles, and 
 bring them here." " Colonel Hardin," asked the Major, 
 quietly, so that no one else heard him, " is this a per- 
 emptory order.'' " " It is." " Then I will make an attempt 
 to execute it; but I give you warning that not a 
 man of us will ever return." " The apostles must be 
 taken. Major Douglas," replied the Colonel. " Very well, 
 Colonel. If 3'ou send me alone you will be much more 
 likely to get them." "But you will lose your life." " I will 
 take the responsibility. If you. send me alone I will plddge 
 
8TEPHE2f A. DOUGLAS. 449 
 
 myself to reach the city. As to bringing in the twelve, or 
 getting back mj-self, that is quite another question. I will 
 try." '' Major Douglas," said the Colonel, after reflecting 
 a few moments, " will proceed to Nauvoo, taking such 
 escort as he sees fit." 
 
 The order was hardl}' given when the little Major dashed 
 olT at full speed and alone. As he approached the Mormon 
 legions. General Wells came forward to meet him, and, 
 after a brief conversation, escorted him through the hollow 
 square of troops into the city. He was not long in finding 
 Brigham and the tweh'e. Most of them had in fact been 
 before him for trial, as Judge, upon some charge or other. 
 The Judge, in a very brief time, succeeded in inducing 
 Brighain and his associates to accompany him. They 
 all packed themselves into the "apostolic coach," drawn by 
 eight horses, and presented themselves in the camp. The 
 fighting was postponed, and negotiations for the removal of 
 the Mormons were entered into. Judge Douglas being 
 chief negotiator on one side. Brigham himself said but 
 little, and, at length, said he would go for awhile, directing 
 his associates to settle the terms. These were soon inform- 
 ally agreed to b)- the twelve, and they were committed to 
 paper. Brigham returned and asked how matters had 
 succeeded. He was told that everything had been settled. 
 " Let me look at the terms," said Brigham, quietly. He 
 read them over hastily. "I'll never agree to them; never! " 
 he exclaimed. The vote was formall}' put and the whole 
 twelve, without a dissenting voice, declared against them, 
 though they had unanimously accepted them five minutes 
 before. Judge Douglas then retired with Brigham and 
 renewed negotiations. He soon convinced that prophet 
 that now was the Lord's time for the " Saints " to move to 
 
450 THE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 a Canaan of their own. New terms were agreed to, in favor 
 of which all the apostles at once voted. The treat}' was 
 dul}' signed, and the great Mormon nation took up its 
 march and forsook the soil of Illinois. 
 
 Mr. Douglas did not greatly desire a seat on the Supreme 
 Bench. It was a position of honor rather than of profit. It 
 took him away from Springfield, to which place he had just 
 moved, and made his home at Quinc}', where he was isolated 
 from the political workers of the State. His upright and 
 conscientious course as Judge, with the signal ability of his 
 decisions, united to the fact that he was but twenty-seven 
 years of age, made him a conspicuous figure. The physical 
 stature of Mr. Douglas, which in the early part of his 
 career proved to his detriment, became a leverage for 
 increasing his fame, with his reputation once established. A 
 frail and insignificant tenement, known to hold a spirit which 
 Titiin would willingly surrender his body to possess, became 
 an object of admiration. The men who have ruled the 
 world have not been cast in frames of heroic size. Orators 
 and military chieftains have been distinguished for being 
 below the average height of men. Nelson, Bonaparte and 
 Alexander, Demosthenes, Chr3'sostom and Chatham, were 
 not built on any colossal frame. " 'Twas not their stature 
 made them great, but greatness of their deeds." There 
 appears to be no necessar}' connection between a great body 
 and a great mind. 
 
 When the Legislature met in 1842 a United States Sen- 
 ator was to be elected. Throughout the State there was 
 manifested a great desire for Judge Douglas to be given the 
 place. He was now but twenty-nine years old, and in case 
 of a special session of the Senate could not take his seat, for 
 he would barely be of a Constitutional age — thirty years — 
 
STEPHEy A. DOUGLAS. 451 
 
 at the time of the regular session. This fact interfered 
 much with the canvass his friends were making in his behalf 
 He nevertheless made a formidable showing in the ballot 
 the Hon. Sidney Breeze being elected by fift}-six votes 
 Douglas receiving fift3'-one. He again thought of renounc 
 ing politics and retiring from the Bench, remove to Spring 
 field and enter the practice once more. But his district 
 while he was engaged in holding a term of court, renom 
 inated him for Congress. There were doubts of the election 
 of any Democrat. There had been a redistricting and 
 Douglas was left in the heaviest opposition counties. He at 
 once resigned the Judgeship, and entered into arrangements 
 for a joint canvass with Mr. Browning, the Whig candidate. 
 The two traveled and spoke every day until the election. 
 The contest was a very exciting one, Browning feeling that 
 defeat would bring the close of his political career, Douglas 
 conscious that election would be his continuance in political 
 advancement. Douglas was elected by a majority of 445. 
 So great had been the exertions of the candidates that, on 
 election da)', both were prostrated with illness, from which 
 neither recovered for nearly two months. In November of 
 that year Mr. Douglas started to Washington. In Novem- 
 ber, 1833, he had landed in Illinois a penniless boy, wander- 
 ing on foot from town to town, seeking emplo^yment; now, 
 in November, 1843, he goes to the Capitol of his Govern- 
 ment, bearing a commission as a National Representative. 
 Unaided, he had realized the richest promises he had 
 pledged himself, when ten years before he left the old home. 
 He had been State Attorney, Register of the Land OfBce, 
 Secretary of State, Judge of the Supreme Court, and now 
 a member of Congress. 
 
 There is no rule by which men achieve recognition among 
 
452 THE GEXirS OF ISDr^TP.T. 
 
 their fellows. Disraeli laughed down in his first speech, 
 and his first literar}- etforts a failure, held his iron will 
 against the storm and conquered the admiration of the 
 very people who mocked him. John Bright, England's 
 illustrious Commoner, moved to reputation b\' a single 
 bound. Possessed of large wealth, he gave his time wholly 
 to business: but when Cobden besought him to •"come and 
 and ^^"in cheap bread for the people," the depths of his 
 nature were aroused: he. joined hands with the agitator and 
 together they won a victory for the people of that realm. 
 Mr. Bright was unused to public address, but. all aglow 
 with the needs of the hour and that an informed people 
 would repeal the corn law. he gave it the advocacy of zeal 
 and passion. Effective in his descriptions and powerful in 
 his earnestness, even his opponents were brought to admire 
 his genius. In this contest his speeches were the eloquence 
 of svmpathv for the poor: but having, through the charity 
 of his nature, accidentally developed capabilities he knew 
 not of, he began and carried forward a system of reading 
 and training that fitted him to compete ^^-ith the " Thunderers 
 of Parliament." This he did shortly after taking member- 
 ship in the House. The portly figure and the Uon-like head 
 cauo^ht the glance of all strangers, and Bright was pointed 
 out with pride by the habitues of the place. " I shall not 
 know the House of Commons without Sir Robert Peel," 
 said Macaulay. when his re-election restored him to his old 
 place. "When Bright was forced into retirement the House 
 of Commons was scarcely itself any longer. Men might 
 oppose him, but. from the first, there was never any question 
 as to his consummate ability as an orator. The emptiest 
 House speedilv filled when he was known to be on his feet. 
 Essentially a plain speaker, he became the most cultivated 
 
STEFSEX JL JfOTGJLAS. 4o3 
 
 orator on the floor, inasmuch as he most elaboratel\- and 
 perastently trained his natural gifts of eloquence. Always 
 earnest, he possessed a simpliciry of pathos, and an occa- 
 sional grandeur, scorn and indignation that ■were rarely 
 equaled by any orator. He was copious in humorous 
 imagery, and sometimes it stung his ^^ctim like a poisoned 
 arrow. During the com conamotion, when Disraeli's 
 measure was being considered. Bright relerred to Disraeli 
 as a " mountebank, with a pill for the earthquake." 
 
 There are many elements that go to make up the popular 
 orator — the speaker who labors with the people and for the 
 people. There are certain things found common to all of 
 them. They are remarkable for strtmg ctHnmon sense; 
 they are forcible in conversation and talk weightilv to the 
 point; they are all aglow with zeal for their cause, and it is 
 a caxise that deeply interests every citizen. Their eloquence 
 is a lire kindled by the intensitj- of their own convictions, 
 and the universal interest piles on fuel until their flame 
 warms and fires a whole nation. Without this the Philip- 
 pics of Demosthenes would have been as cold and spiritless 
 as the strains of Martin Tuj^jer. It was that heat that 
 made the old Burgessses cry out, " Treaswi! treasoni " 
 when Patrick Henry thundered against King George. A 
 like spirit blazed in Douglas in his Jackstm advocacv. and a 
 heat from the same fiimace caused the oppositicHi in England 
 to denounce John Bright as a demagogue. In addition to 
 this motive power there are certain traits of ease of manner, 
 directness of st\ie, simplicity of argumait, and mingled 
 pleasantrv- and passion to be traced in this character. Their 
 voice is like a peal of bells, producing the varied tones suited 
 to the expression of their thane. 
 
 A London writer in the ^Te^s sives a 5ur\"e\" of ^Ir. 
 
454 THE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 Bright as an orator fitly describing all orators of this class. 
 An extract is submitted: " Whilst the effect by Mr. Bright 
 upon those who listen to him is wonderful, the first impres- 
 sion of those who hear him for the first time is one of 
 disappointment. When he begins to speak to an}' audience 
 he general!}' opens his address in a low tone, pauses occa- 
 sionally, as though to find a suitable word, and seems 
 to have no idea whatever of rousing the enthusiasm of those 
 who listen to him. Those who have taken with them pre- 
 conceived notions of Mr. Bright, presenting him to their 
 imaginations as a reckless demagogue, full of sound and 
 fury, will hardly be able to recognize the great orator in the 
 quiet and unimpassioned speaker who stands motionless 
 before them, pouring forth a stream of noble Saxon words, 
 the very simplicity and appropriateness of which rob the 
 orator of a portion of the credit which is due to him. But 
 presently, while the stranger is wondering at the infatuation 
 of those who have placed upon the brows of this man the 
 crown of eloquence, he is himself drawn within the circle of 
 his influence, and, forgetting his preconceived notions, his 
 subsequent disappointment and his whole theory of the art 
 of oratory, he listens enchanted to the man who can put the 
 most difficult questions so plainl}' before his audience, and in 
 whose hands the dryest subject becomes so interesting. 
 Then, when the speaker has drawn the whole of his hearers 
 into sympathy with him, he begins to work on their emo- 
 tions, like a skilful player on the harp. And first he rouses 
 the scorn of scorn in their hearts by a few simple words, 
 which, when we read them in the morning, appear alto- 
 gether innocent, but which, as he utters them, scathe the 
 object of his v/rath more terribly than the bitterest or most 
 violent invective. Perhaps in nothing has Mr. Bright 
 
STEPUEX A. DOUGLAS. 455 
 
 SO much power as in his use of sarcasm. The manner in 
 which, b}' a mere inflection of his voice, he can express tiie 
 intensest scorn, and so express it as to make his feelings 
 more completely known to his audience than if he spent an 
 hour in tr3-ing to explain them, is simply marvelous. We 
 remember one or two instances in which the mere tone of 
 his voice has conveyed an impression of his boundless 
 contempt for his adversaries which no language could ha\e 
 expressed half so well. But almost directly after the 
 audience has been stirred by the orator's sarcasm he begins 
 in the calmest and most deliberate manner to tell some 
 stor}-. 
 
 The old friends at home, and at Cleveland, were anxious 
 to have the young Congressman visit them on his way to 
 Washington. He stopped to see them, for he had promised 
 to return when he had carved a place for himself in the world. 
 He had achieved a phenomenal success. The ten years had 
 been crowded with struggles, and mingled with defeats and 
 victories, the future still beckoned him on, but it forebode a 
 tempestuous career. On his way to Congress he realized 
 for the first time, like the conqueror of Lodi at the bridge, 
 that he might become a factor in the world's control; he vis- 
 ited the old cabinet shop and looking at the two lives together, 
 having tasted of both, he said, " had health and strength been 
 equal to the task, no consideration could have induced me to 
 abandon the shop for the field of politics." In December 
 1843, Mr. Douglas took his seat in Congress. He was pos- 
 sessed of the qualities that soon win recognition in the houses 
 of Congress. His stature and his youth attracted a curious 
 interest, but the genius of his speech shortly turned curiosity 
 into admiration. 
 
 He was a natural leader, aggressive in character, self-reli- 
 
456 THE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 ant, gifted with decision, and crowned with a read}', prac- 
 tical judgment of . men and measures. The I louse of Com- 
 mons is a hard place for one to rise. The rules of propriety 
 and limits of debate on all unrecognized leaders compel a 
 new member to serve for years before his views are received 
 with consideration. In Congress it is difficult to reach a 
 prominent place on committees, or gain tiie car of the coun- 
 try, because the competition is so great. It is not a gather- 
 ing of wealth and family influences as the Commons, but an 
 association mainly of the aggressive thinkers and active po- 
 litical workers in each district of the government. Such 
 men will always make a turbulent assembly. Leadership in 
 such a body is a self-created place. It is an unconscionable 
 horde of men, de\-oid of mercy or sympathy for each other, 
 filled with a vengeful determination to strike down the first 
 head that appears above the general level, accustomed to bat- 
 tles and knowing all that victory means for a rival, conscious 
 that unrecognized here they will be speedily overthrown at 
 home, every armor is kept on, and the metal of every sword 
 is tried ; the man who can conquer in such a fight is a Crom- 
 wellian Dictator, and could guide the nation safely through a 
 revolution. 
 
 INIr. Douglas entered the arena with the same possessed 
 confidence that discussed the bank question at Jacksonville, 
 or addressed the Illinois Legislature. He was free from 
 moral cowardice, and so convinced that the measures he ad- 
 \ocated were right, and must therefore triumph, that, like 
 the Norsemen, he was determined to find a wa}' or make it. 
 Early in his first session a bill, to refund to General Jackson 
 $1000 imposed as a fine upon him by Judge Hall, at New 
 Orleans, during the defense of that cit}', was re-introduced, 
 ha\ing been considered previousl}'. Jackson had been ex- 
 
STEPHEN A. DOUGLAS. 457 
 
 tolled on all sides as a patriot and successful defender, but 
 for this reason chiefly he was supported, lawyers and states- 
 men viewing the judge's decision as sound. Just one month 
 after he had taken his seat Mr. Douglas obtained the floor. 
 His was a new face and a strange voice in those halls. He 
 renounced the beaten path in his advocacy of the bill, and 
 took high grounds in defense of Jackson's conduct, repudiat- 
 ing the legalit}' of Judge Ilall's decision. The position was 
 a bold one. The speaker attracted attention, and, as he 
 warmed with his subject he soon obtained the ear of the 
 House. He made a thorough and masterly vindication of 
 Jackson's action, and completely exposed the illegality and 
 wanton injustice of the Court. The speech was a surprise to 
 the House, and a gratification to the friends of the injured 
 General. The character of Douglas as a lawyer and as a de- 
 bater was established that day. General Jackson was in 
 command of the troops at New Orleans. An insurrection 
 was imminent, being stimulated b}^ a proclamation and prom- 
 ises of the enemy, of which the firing of the first gun was to 
 be the signal. Convinced that the salvation of the city 
 depended upon the existence of martial law, the General de- 
 clared it. For this " contempt " of the civil authorities Judge 
 Hall fined him. When the Congress of the United States 
 feared to enunciate a new principle, and proposed to return 
 Jackson the $1000 out of "patriotic sympathy," Douglas, 
 only thirty days old as a member, scorned their sj^mpathy, and 
 proclaimed a principle of national action for times of danger, 
 that will stand like the bulwarks of the Constitution in the 
 days of sudden peril. But a few lines of that address can be 
 quoted. He said: " There are exigencies in the history of 
 nations as well as individuals when necessit}' becomes the 
 paramount law to which all other considerations must yield. 
 
458 THE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 It is that first great law of nature, which authorizes a man 
 to defend his life, his person, his wife and children, at all 
 hazards, and repel aggression and insult, and to protect itself 
 in the exercise of its legislative functions; it is that law which 
 enables courts to defend themselves and punish for contempt. 
 It was this same law which authorized General Jackson to de- 
 fend New Orleans by resorting to the only means in his 
 power which could accomplish the end. In such a crisis, 
 necessity confers the authority and defines its limits. If it 
 becomes necessaiy to blow up a fort, it is right to do it ; if it 
 is necessary to sink a vessel, it is right to sink it; and if it is 
 necessary to burn a city, it is right to burn it. I will not fa- 
 tigue the committee with a detailed account of the oc- 
 currences of that period, and the circumstances surrounding 
 the General, which rendered the danger immediate and 
 impending, the necessity unavoidable, the duty imperative, 
 and temporizing ruinous. * * * * General Jackson 
 promptly issued the order. The cit}' was saved.'' The 
 speech of Douglas not only relieved Jackson, but established 
 a doctrine. 
 
 The following year, in the Presidential campaign of Polk 
 and Clay, the representative men of the democratic party 
 attended a monster meeting at Nashville. Mr. Douglas was 
 there. A vast procession of people visited the " Hermitage," 
 to see for the last time the illustrious patriot who had so 
 prominently occupied the hearts of his countrymen. Feeble 
 from care and years, he was unable to stand, and was seated 
 in his great arm-chair. The visiting multitude filed by; he 
 gazed upon them with the tenderness of a kingly father 
 upon his citizen-children; and they moved on in the presence 
 of fatherhood and greatness with uncovered heads. Mr. 
 Douglas was brought up and introduced. " Are }'ou the 
 
STEPHEN A. DOUGLAS. 459 
 
 Mr. Douglas, of Illinois, who delivered a speech last session 
 on the subject of the fine impbsed on me for declaring mar- 
 tial law at New Orleans? '' asked General Jackson. " I have 
 delivered a speech in the House of Representatives upon 
 that subject," was the modest reply. ''Then stop," said 
 General Jackson, '' sit down here beside ine. I desire to 
 return you my thanks for that speech. You are the first 
 man that has ever relieved my mind on a subject which has 
 rested upon it for thirty years. M}' enemies have always 
 charged ine with violating the Constitution of my country 
 by declaring martial law at New Orleans, and my friends 
 have always admitted the violation, but have contended 
 that circumstances justified me in that violation. I never 
 could understand how it was that the performance of a sol- 
 emn dut}' to my country — a duty, which if I had neglected, 
 would have made me a traitor in the sight of God and man 
 — could properly be pronounced a violation of the Constitu- 
 tion. I felt convinced in my own mind that I was not 
 guilty of such heinous ofTense; but I could never make out a 
 legal justification of my course, nor has it ever been done, 
 sir, until you on the floor of Congress at the late session 
 established it be}'ond the possibility of cavil or doubt. I 
 thank 3'ou, sir, for that speech. It has relieved my mind 
 from the only circumstance that rested painfully upon it. 
 Throughout my whole life I never performed an official act 
 which I viewed as a violation of the Constitution of my 
 country, and I can now go down to the grave in peace, 
 with the perfect conciousness that I have not broken, at any 
 period of my life, the Constitution or laws of mv country." 
 
 Statesmen are of ^•alue to the government according to 
 their fitness to appropriate the issues peculiar to their da3\ 
 Men occupy seats in National Legislatures, who are never 
 
460 THE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 heard from except as they vote, passing through years 
 of service without a record, yet there is general con- 
 fession that they are capable of large achievements. The 
 difficulty lies in the character of the legislation. The}- are 
 men of abilit}-, but not versatility. In one phase of national 
 problems they would be great, in all others they are no 
 more than mediocre. 
 
 On the subject of trade, that looked to giving the people 
 of England cheap bread, Colden was the greatest of national 
 economists. Hs battled on this subject until he revolution- 
 ized the condition of thirty million laborers and recon- 
 structed the trade laws of the kingdom. He was not 
 narrow in having onh' one idea; one idea was his strength. 
 A leader with two ideas could not have accomplished his 
 task. The mission required a statesman of consummate pru- 
 dence, a nature of uni\ersal S3"mpathies, and the colossal 
 energies of a whole life time given to this one effort. 
 A Gladstone and a Jeflerson would have been unequal 
 to the task. Lincoln might have accomplished the 
 work. Douglas could not; neither could Calhoun. Had 
 there been no corn-law to repeal, Cobden would have been 
 unknown to English readers; had there been no African 
 slaverv, Lincoln would have been without a national history 
 in America. 
 
 Mr. Douglas was re-elected to Congress in 1846, this time 
 without opposition in his own party. In one term he had 
 ceased to be a "new member," and had come to be recog- 
 nized as one of the leaders of the House. He was placed 
 in the national assembly at a time when new questions 
 were constantly arising, the proper disposal of which 
 required tried counsellors or men gifted with the genius of 
 legislation. Great emer^cencies create o-reat characters. A 
 
STEPHEN A. DOUGLAfi. 401 
 
 nation that is making history daily produces legislators who 
 shape laws and direct government on the instant, as the 
 great captains plan battles in the saddle Mr. Douglas had 
 no great solitary thought of right to uphold or of wrong to 
 overthrow; he was a master-builder in the formative epoch 
 of the government. On man}' of the great questions that 
 arose from 1843 to i860, his prudence and sagacity led the 
 nation safely, and engrafted into the poHcy of the govern- 
 ment some of our most salutary doctrines. Polk's adminis- 
 tration was severely arraigned for precipitating the Mexican 
 war. The country was greatly aroused over the injustice 
 and inhumanit}' of the war, or in support of the Executive 
 and his sustenance of American rights. INIr. Douglas 
 championed the war, making a powerful argument in its 
 justification, and of the American title to the whole of 
 Texas. His speech had a wonderful effect on the House. 
 His fame was rapidly rising as an orator and debater — at 
 the beginning of his second Congressional term he was one 
 of the conceded leaders of the Democratic side. While 3-et 
 a member of the House, Mr. Douglas was elected in 1847 
 to the Senate of the United States. He entered that body 
 when the storm was gathering for the Missouri Com- 
 promise. General Taylor had been elected President; his 
 views upon the slavery question were unknown. 
 
 Back to the Senate, happily for the harmony of the Union 
 which he had so nobly served, and upon every page of 
 whose history for half a century his name will ever stand 
 the brightest, Henry Clay had come forth from the peace- 
 ful shades of Ashland, once more to mingle in the strife of 
 contending sections, and once more by his magic voice to 
 quell the storm and guide the hostile factions into one com- 
 mon path of peace. At that time the Senate was in its 
 
462 THE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 zenith. It numbered among its members, men whose names 
 were historical — Webster, Phelps, Calhoun, Benton, and 
 King. The list of Senators ot that Session will compare, in 
 all the elements of true greatness, with that of the same 
 number of men in any country, in any age. Mr. Clay was 
 on the select committee which had charge of the two great 
 bills Mr. Douglas had introduced on the Missouri Compro- 
 mise question, and informed Mr. Douglas that the special 
 committee would not report a bill, but would recommend 
 to the Senate that his two bills, '' California " and " Terri- 
 torial," should pass as one act. 
 
 Mr. Douglas stated his objections to this, and urged that 
 the two measures be simply incorporated into the com- 
 mittee's report. Mr. Clay acknowledged the full force of 
 this reasoning, but repeated that to take the bills of INIr. 
 Douglas and report them as the great Compromise Bills, 
 prepared by the select committee, would be unjust to their 
 author, who was entitled to all the honor of preparing them. 
 Mr. Douglas then said : " I respectfully ask you, Mr. Clay, 
 what right have 3'-ou, to whom the country looks for so 
 much, and as an eminent statesman having charge of a great 
 measure for the pacification of a distracted country, to sacri- 
 fice to any extent the chances of success on a mere punctilio 
 as to whom the credit ma}' belong of having first written 
 the bills .'^ I, sir, waive all claim and personal consideration 
 in this matter, and insist that the committee shall pursue 
 that course which they may deem best calculated to accom- 
 plish the great end we all have in view, without regard to 
 any interest merely personal to me " Mr. Clay, (extend- 
 ing his hand to Mr. Douglas), " You are the most generous 
 man living. I will unite the bills and report them; but 
 justice shall, nevertheless, be done to you as the real author 
 
STEPHEN A. DOUGLAS. 463 
 
 of the measures." Accordingl}^ Mr. Clay, the following 
 morning, reported the two bills attached together by a 
 wafer! They subsequently became known as the Omnibus 
 Bill. 
 
 Out of this contest to make the Missouri Compromise 
 line of 36° 31' the boundary between slave and free terri- 
 tory, arose the Kansas-Nebraska act. It was the culmina- 
 tion of the same grand drama. It was the battle of a great 
 right, the struggle of political parties which should control 
 the legislation and destinies of the nation. The substance 
 of this act was that all questions pertaining to slavery in the 
 Territories, and in the new States to be formed therefrom, 
 are to be left to the decision of the people residing therein, 
 by their appropriate representatives, to be chosen by them 
 for that purpose. No act of Congress since the foundation 
 of our governnient aroused such universal interest, and has 
 become so celebrated in political annals. Mr. Douglas as 
 its author was subject to unbounded denunciation. While 
 it was pending in Congress a storm, such as has never been 
 known in the political annals of the country, was gathering, 
 and it broke with all its force upon his head. He followed 
 the chart he had laid down, undismayed by threats, and in 
 the face of friends deserting him by the thousands. He 
 looked to his own home, Illinois, there Abraham Lincoln 
 had cast the tremendous weight of his influence against the 
 act. Mr. Lincoln's eloquence was heard in its stately 
 denunciations from Chicago to Cairo. 
 
 The pressure from his own State was enough to crush 
 most men. He had been hung in effigy throughout New 
 England. Every description of obloqu}' had been heaped 
 upon him. The whole North was in a rage of fury; they 
 believed that the " Popular Sovereignty " of Douglas was 
 
4(14 TUB GENIUS Oi*" INDUSTRY. 
 
 intended for the slave owners to populate the Territories, 
 and vote each of them into the Union as a State v^^ith slavery. 
 Mr. Douglas had declared that Congress shall neither legis- 
 late slavery into any Territories or State, nor out of the 
 same; but the people shall be left free to regulate their 
 domestic concerns in their own way. The North accepted 
 the gage of battle and said slavery was a crime and could 
 go no farther. On the evening before the bill was to be 
 voted upon the following day, the Senate's session was pro- 
 tracted to a late hour. Mr. Douglas had the closing speech. 
 It was near midnight when he obtained the floor. The 
 galleries were yet crowded and the Senate fully aroused. 
 At midnight with a packed Senate — his efKgies burning all 
 over the land, a hundred meetings where he was being 
 denounced — by popular frenzy — he arose calml}^ and closed 
 the debate with one of the most remarkable speeches ever 
 delivered. He was undismayed before the storm; it had 
 onl}' added grandeur to his wondertiil eloquence. By the 
 force of his argument, the impetuosity of his invective, and 
 the clearness and power with which he advocated his great 
 measure, he caught the storm that was surging against him, 
 turned it, and hurled it back upon his enemies. Webster's 
 reply to Ha3-ne never throbbed through the pulse of the 
 nation as that last speech of Douglas on the Nebraska bill. 
 It is not enough that one should possess self-reliance, deci- 
 sion, and a practical temper, he must also have an inflexible 
 will. Without this unyielding qualit)', there are trials when 
 the most gifted powers will go down like chafT before 
 the storm. Many men attain great success while the 
 world goes smoothlv, but when the momentous difficul- 
 ties, which invariably attach to all great enterprises, 
 encounter them, their skill is all driven to rout and they are 
 
■ STEPUEN A. DOUGLAS. 465 
 
 left helpless. Bismarck has ruled Germany and made her 
 powerful, not because he is a greater statesman than Gam- 
 betta, who ruled France since she became a Republic, 
 but because he has an iron will. He has attained his ends 
 and covered himself with renown, because he has marshalled 
 to his every enterprise an invincible determination. A man 
 who is weak and on the wrong side, if endowed with an in- 
 domitable will, is generally found on the winning side. 
 
 Mr. Douglas was a conscientious worker. Every public 
 measure on which he was called to act received his careful 
 attention; he weighed it in all its general bearings and mas- 
 tered it in detail. When Adolph Thiers addressed the French 
 Assembly on the "}'early budget," he was not better pan- 
 oplied on the facts and figures of the treasury than Douglas 
 on every possible relation of a bill he advocated or opposed. 
 The thoroughness of his knowledge was his first source of 
 power as a speaker. Isaac Errett said that thorough knowl- 
 edge of a subject, joined to composure, was the secret of 
 successful extemporaneous speaking. Douglas never arose 
 to address an audience until after an exhaustive research of 
 his subject. He was recognized as the readiest debater 
 that ever entered Congress. He was always a full man, 
 and won the prize of a tireless student. Webster often 
 slighted his work and was great only on occasions. Doug- 
 las never slighted anything. Like Mirabeau he had a 
 chivalrous regard for all he said, and regarded every 
 subject upon which he talked as too important to be treated 
 indifferently. 
 
 The author of "David Copperfield " said : " Many men 
 have worked much harder and not succeeded half so well; 
 but I never could have done what I have done without the 
 habits of punctuality, order and diligence; without the de- 
 
466 THE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 termination to concentrate myself on one object at a time, 
 no matter how quickly its successor should come upon its 
 heels. My meaning simply is, whatever I have tried to do 
 in my life, I have tried with all my heart to do well; that 
 whatever I have devoted myself to, I have devoted mj'self 
 to completely; that in great aims and in small I have been 
 thoroughly in earnest. I have never believed it possible that 
 any natural or improved ability can claim immunity from 
 the companionship of the steady, plain, hard-working qual- 
 ities, and hope to gain its end. Some happy talent and some 
 fortunate opportunity may form the two sides of the ladder 
 on which some men may mount, but the rounds of that lad- 
 der must be made of stufT to stand the wear and tear; and 
 there is no substitute for thorough going, ardent and sincere 
 earnestness. Never to put my hand on anything on which 
 I could not throw my whole self, and never, never to atfect 
 depreciation of my work, whatever it was, I find now to 
 have been my golden rules." 
 
 In 1853 Mr. Douglas was again elected to the Senate. 
 He had now acquired a national reputation. Men began to 
 look to him as a Presidential candidate. The country was 
 passing through the mighty throes of the slavery discussion. 
 Lincoln was rising as the leader of the anti-slavery element, 
 while Douglas stood for the vast undecided and conservative 
 masses, that were willing to let it be controlled in each and 
 every instance by a local vote. 
 
 In the National Convention of 1852 Illinois had voted for 
 him for President, and in 1856 his name was again pre- 
 sented. Mr. Douglas was in Washington at the time the 
 latter convention was in session. When the telegrams 
 showed a growing inharmony in the deliberations incident 
 to selecting a cadidate, Mr. Douglas telegraphed his friends 
 
STEPHEN A. DOUGLAS. 467 
 
 to preserve the party and vote for whomsoever their strength 
 would nominate. They voted for and nominated Mr. 
 Buchanan. Two years after the memorable campaign of 
 Lincoln and Douglas took place. Mr. Douglas had achieved 
 a world-wide reputation. He had been a potent factor in 
 shaping the legislation of his country for more than twelve 
 years. Mr. Lincoln was not so widely known, but he was 
 the recognized head of a rapidly growing party. The battle 
 of the nation — the irrepressible conflict — was transferred 
 to Illinois, and on her soil the chosen giants from the two 
 sides were to have a hand-to-hand contest. 
 
 That political field developed the most exciting and mem- 
 orable campaign in history. It was preliminary to the 
 Presidential struggle two years later. On the triumph of 
 the senatorial battle now waging it was felt that the fate of 
 i860 depended. The contestants spoke with the nation as 
 an auditor, and the future of the government involved. 
 Greek had met Greek, and the unyielding sinew of their 
 respective characters was pushed to a terrible test of endur- 
 ance. Neither faltered. Douglas was the greatest orator; 
 Lincoln was the most commanding reasoner. The primary 
 rights of humanity were involved. Mr. Douglas triumphed 
 in the election, and was returned to the Senate. The posi- 
 tion which Mr. Douglas took, Mr. Lincoln said, would 
 destroy that gentleman's chances for the Presidency. He 
 was too conservative for the South and too near a slavery 
 man for the North. The prediction was verified. The 
 Democratic convention at Charleston in i860 was unable 
 to agree. The doctrine of Douglass had split the party. 
 Mr. Breckenridge was nominated by the Democrats of the 
 old school, and INIr. Douglas naturally became the candidate 
 of the new departure. He entered the contest with a 
 
468 THE GENIUS OB' INDUSTRY. 
 
 divided party, and the powers were arranged against liim. 
 He also confronted the new party, glowing with the vio-or 
 of young life and bounding with enthusiasm for slavery 
 reform. The Republican party was rapidly creating public 
 sentiment to the acceptance of the Declaration of Independ- 
 ence, as including blacks as well as whites, when it is said, 
 " all men were created free and equal, and endowed with 
 inalienable rights." The champion of Popular Sovereignty 
 was in an unequal battle from the first. With nearly all the 
 standard-bearers marshalled against him, who had hereto- 
 fore cheered him on, he threw himself into the campaign, 
 and the presence of Douglas was worth a thousand men. 
 The dauntless spirit that had faced odds for a quarter of a 
 century never flinched as he read the handwriting on the 
 wall. Determined to do all he could do, his tremendous 
 energies created a kindred zeal among his followers, but the 
 prediction proved true, and he was overthrown b}' the ^'otes 
 of Mr. Lincoln. 
 
 The patriotism and integrity of Mr. Douglas were put to 
 the test when the States of the South began to secede. He 
 was an ambitious man, he was a strong party man, and had 
 battled for power with all the persistence of a strong and 
 determined nature. The man with whom he had had his 
 hardest fights occupied the chair to which he had aspired 
 for so many years. Caesar might now make his alliance and 
 defeat Pompey on the plains. A civil war was imminent. 
 Great and defeated rivals at Carthage had defeated aid and 
 men to Hannibal, and finally he sank before the overwhelm- 
 ing legions of Scipio; a wanderer from his native land, for- 
 saken and poor, he died by his own hand. All the treason 
 and personal malice of Douglas stood face to face with his 
 rival who had defeated his personal aspirations and ruined 
 
STEPHEN A. DOUGLAS. 469 
 
 his party. But the loyalty and heroism that Rome and 
 Carthage did not know was held in the Douglas breast. 
 
 On Sunday, the fourteenth of April, 1861, when the 
 nation was trembling under the fall of Sumpter, Mr. Ash- 
 mun, of INIassachusetts, called on Mr. Douglas, and asked 
 that he go and assure the President of his cordial support in 
 all needful measures. His reply was: "Mr. Lincoln has 
 dealt hardly with me, and I don't know as he wants my 
 ad\ice or aid." After further conversation, Mrs. Douglas 
 entered the room and cast the weight of her affectionate 
 influence to that of Mr. Ashmun. Mr. Douglas suddenly 
 arose, and said he would trample on his resentment and see 
 Mr. Lincoln. The two gentlemen reached the White House 
 at dark, and found Mr. Lincoln alone. The life-long antag- 
 onists together discussed the peril of the nation. 
 
 Mr. Douglas evinced a fuller understanding of the purposes 
 of the Southern leaders than the President had, and expressed 
 the gravest apprehensions of the future. Mr. Lincoln took 
 the proclamation, calling for seventy-five thousand troops, 
 which he had determined to issue the next day, and read it. 
 When he had finished, Mr. Douglas rose from his chair and 
 with much earnestness said: " Mr. President, I cordially con- 
 cur in every word of that document, except that in a call for 
 seventy-five thousand men, I would make it two hundred 
 thousand. You do not know the determined and prepared 
 purpose of these men as well as I do." He called Mr. Lin- 
 coln's attention to a large map hanging back of his chair, and 
 pointed out the stragetic points which should at once be 
 strengthened for the coming contest. He then enlarged upon 
 the firm and warlike course which should be pursued, while 
 Mr. Lincoln listened with astonished interest, and the two old 
 
470 THE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 foes parted that night with their enmities buried and their 
 hearts united in a single purpose. 
 
 After leaving the President, Mr. Ashniun said to INIr. 
 Douglas: "You have done justice to your own reputation and 
 to the President, and the country must know it. The pro- 
 clamation will go b}' telegraph all over the country in the 
 morning, and the account of this interview must go with it. 
 I will send it either in my own language or 3-ours. I prefer 
 that you should give me your own version." Mr. Douglas 
 said he would write it ; and so the dispatch went with the 
 message wherever the telegraph would carry it, confirming 
 the wavering of his own party, and helping to raise the tide of 
 loyal feeling, among all parties and classes, to its flood. The 
 dispatch was as follows : " Mr. Douglas called on the Presi- 
 dent this evening, and had an interesting con\-ersation on the 
 present condition of the countr}'. The substance of the con- 
 versation was that while Mr. Douglas was unalterably 
 opposed to the administration on all its political issues, he was 
 prepared to sustain the President in the exercise of all his 
 constitutional functions to preserve the Union, and maintain 
 the government and defend the Federal capital. A firm pol- 
 icy and prompt action were necessary. The capital of our' 
 country was in danger and must be defended at all hazards, 
 and at any expense of men or money. He spoke of the pres- 
 ent and future without reference to the past." Mr. Douglas 
 had done with his dreams of power, had done with the 
 thought that compromise would save the country, and done, 
 for the time at least, with schemes for party aggrandize- 
 ment 
 
 A few days after his interview with Mr. Lincoln, he was 
 on his way home, and at Bellaire, Ohio, he was called out to 
 make a speech. All parties received him with the greatest 
 
STEPHEN A. DOUGLAS. 471 
 
 enthusiasm. Subsequently he addressed the Legislature of 
 Illinois, and his own fellow-citizens at Chicago. The old 
 party talk and the old party policy were all forgotten, and 
 onl}' the sturdy, enthusiastic patriot spoke. The influence 
 of Douglas cast on the side of secession would have divided 
 the Union. 
 
 The statesmanship of Mr. Douglas, while it was allied to 
 his party, was absolutely pure and eminently American. He 
 toiled for his party with all the energy of his nature, but he 
 never intentionally subserved his government to its advance- 
 ment. He recognized parties as the channels through which 
 benefit or injury was brought to the whole people, and on the 
 current of Democratic votes he sought to freight his country's 
 good. Few men in the history of politics so frequently 
 ignored the cherished doctrines of their party and sought to 
 establish new ideas and principles. 
 
 In 1853 Mr. Douglas visited Europe. His fame as a 
 statesman and orator had preceded him, and caused him to 
 be received with distinguished consideration. He bore with 
 him to monarchial shores his sturdy devotioh to republican 
 simplicity, and an unyielding estimate of the dignity of Amer- 
 ican citizenship. His patriotic integrity to these principles 
 cost him his presentation to the Court at St. James. While 
 in London, he was to be presented to her Majesty. With 
 the naming of the time, came a notice, that it was necessary 
 to leave off his American costume and array himself in court 
 dress. He protested, but the requirements of royal etiquette 
 could not be evaded. He was informed that he must sub- 
 mit to a change of costume, or be denied the presentation. 
 Mr. Douglas promptly accepted the latter, and without an 
 audience with her Queen, he quitted England an American 
 citizen. 
 
fj;H^f;'yj;Hy^j^pj;. 
 
 "Alas! he has not the gift of continuance." 
 
 See first that the design is wise and just; 
 That ascertained, pursue it resolutely; 
 Do not for one repulse forego the purpose 
 That you resoWed to effect. — Mills. 
 
 Time and patience change the nnulberry leaf to satin. — Eastern Proverb. 
 
 Labor is the price which the gods have set upon all that is excellent.- 
 Pagans. 
 
p}^^mAi^Aq 
 
 T is said that Robert Bruce, being defeated six times, 
 fled before the armies of Edward in despair, seek- 
 ing rest and a hiding-place in an old barn. While 
 there he observed a spider which was endeavoring to weave 
 a web in a window corner. Six times it strove to throw 
 itself across from the wall to the window, and failed. But 
 on the seventh effort it conquered. Having thus learned a 
 lesson on perseverance, he buckled on his armor, renewed 
 his courage, and went forth to victor}-. Both spider and 
 warrior discovered that there was something more needed 
 than the genius of creation. 
 
 " The best laid schemes o' mice and men 
 Gang aft agley." 
 
 It was only by persistent attempt, changing his base of 
 operations and his plans, and pushing through obstacles, that 
 Bruce gained the day. Some of the most stupendous fail- 
 ures history records were made by men who had genius of 
 the first order but lacked wit to discern the importance of 
 " magazines " of perseverance. Histor^• also informs us of 
 giant deeds done b}' home-spun, but untiring workers — men 
 who, although surpassed by many in brilliancy of intellect. 
 
474 THE OEXIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 combined, in their make-up, many of the unmistakable prop- 
 erties for conquest. Some very discriminating thinkers have 
 decided genius to be but another name for industry. But 
 whatever the truth may be concerning it, we are in no 
 danger of misunderstanding what perseverance is. Newton 
 said he made his great discoveries by "alwa3's thinking into 
 them." 
 
 How many investigators will persevere, through every 
 obstacle, to perfect knowledge.^ How many authoi-s will 
 thus think through a subject.^ How many take pleasure in 
 improving that which is already prepared to hand.^ How 
 many have courage enough to give their own work a 
 thorough revision.^ Who of my readers could have the 
 patience of DeQuince}', who re-wrote portions of his Con- 
 fessions sixty times, without feeling that they were consigned 
 to the tread-mill for life.'' It is said that M. Thiers, the 
 Jupiter of the French Assembly, committed, burned, and 
 re-wrote every speech three times before he permitted him- 
 self to deliver it. 
 
 Notwithstanding the vast arra}' of facts that can be 
 brought forth from history to this point, the world is still 
 crazy in its pursuit after a '' genius," and insists that he can 
 "shut his eyes and do the work with his left hand." We 
 freely confess that some men seem to have a natural aptitude 
 for preparation; but aptitude never did anything alone. 
 Young men are pointed to Beecher and Spurgeon, Dom 
 Pedro and Rothschild as examples of genius. These are 
 mighty men, truly, but there is more than genius visible in 
 their lives. Each of them puts through five or six common 
 men's work every day the}- exist. They are not only gifted 
 in seeing the main chance, but also in making that prepara- 
 tion which shall enable them to seize it. Is not this one of 
 
PEBSEVEBAJfCE. 475 
 
 the prerequisites to perseverance? Is it not one thing to 
 snatch at an opportunity, and quite another to seize and 
 hold it? The Latins used to say: "Opportunity has hair 
 in front; behind she is bald; if you seize her b}- the forelock, 
 you ma}' hold her; but if suffered to escape, not Jupiter him- 
 self can catch her again." 
 
 Boston possesses the latest intellectual prodigy: Rev. 
 Joseph Cook has the physique of a Titan. He looks like a 
 Scandinavian king let loose on our shores. He is both 
 omnipresent and omniscient — seeing e\er3'thing, and read}' 
 for everything. He flits from library to museum as though 
 he were shot through a pneumatic tube. To-day, he is with 
 Bronson Alcott, roaming the hills of Cambridge ; to-morrow, 
 with Whittier, standing on the sea-blown coast of Newbury- 
 port; then back again, with bent knee and uplifted hands, 
 at the toinbs of Webster and Edwards, invoking their genius 
 to inspire him. He catches his impulses from both the liv- 
 ing and the dead. 
 
 One hour he devotes to nature, the next to history and 
 revelation. Every breeze and every book brings to him an 
 atom of power; every man of note, in ev6ry age, becomes 
 his positive or negative. He rushes from home to Tremont 
 Temple like a money-jobber when gold falls six per cent., 
 and mounts the rostrum, looking like an eagle, that 
 
 " Watches from his mountain walls, 
 And like a thunder-bolt he falls." 
 
 His preludes, replete with brilliant remarks upon current 
 events, contain more neatly-packed information than the 
 editorials of a New York daily. His lecture proper resolves 
 a problem into its simple elements with more thoroughness 
 and ease than many an ambitious octavo. He manipulates, 
 renews, adjusts and serves out theology to the magnates of 
 
476 TEE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 Boston with as much expertness and grace as though he 
 were a Parisian dealing out confectionery to the princes of 
 the Tuileries. His progress can not be impeded, his posi- 
 tions contested, nor his rival found. The crooked-streeted, 
 crooked-brained city of the sea sits dumb and pained under 
 the strokes of his rhetorical flail. Every one feels that he 
 must and he will have vent. Clarke and Hale, in his hands, 
 are like rats in the jaws of an English terrier. Parker Pills- 
 bury, himself a sufferer, exactly but bitterl}' expresses it, 
 when admonishing another, in these laconic words: "Do 
 not attack Mr. Cook! You can not strike the ding out of 
 a cow-bell ! " 
 
 No ! You can't ! Neither can you check the speed or 
 break the power of an untiring giant, who has occupied his 
 years in passing from nation to nation, librar}- to librar^•, 
 school to school, and man to man, to gather up the knowl- 
 edge he needs to do effective service for truth. This is the 
 secret of success with Joseph Cook, added to which, for 
 consideration, is his patient and thorough digestion, classifi- 
 cation, and application of what he has acquired. 
 
 Labor is not a curse, that men should be so religiously 
 exact in freeing themselves from it ; neither is it disreputable. 
 Study will only whet to a keener edge the sentences of an 
 Everett or a Marshall. Of all the orators who have 
 possessed an astonishing copiousness of words, only Patrick 
 Henr}^ and the Pitts have stood the test of time. E^'en the 
 brilliant Irish orator^ Phillips, knocks in vain for admission 
 among recognized British masters. It seems to be the fate 
 of such men to fall into oblivion. 
 
 Ready speaking is unparliamentary in the House of 
 Commons and Plouse of Lords. Unless " the noble gentle- 
 man " hems and haws, and sings his slow monotone, he is 
 
PERSEVERANCE. 477 
 
 looked upon with suspicion as one who is perpetrating a joke. 
 They have found by long experience that the arguments 
 that are fraught with grave matter, probing down to the 
 quick of the subject, can not be glibbed oft" trippingly on the 
 tongue. The ponderous thoughts of a Webster or a 
 Brougham — thoughts that settle the destiny of States, and 
 that are read five hundred years after delivery with a thrill 
 of ecstasy, have but little oratorical jingle in them. Thej- 
 are of slower, stronger growth than that, and brought forth 
 with intenser travail. 
 
 A straightforward, drudging perseverance will accomplish 
 little without intellect to foster and sustain it. Intellect is 
 necessary, also, to give it direction. There are farmers 
 who woi'k just as hard as their neighbors, but never raise 
 more than half the crop. They persist in driving the wedge 
 broad end foremost. They put forth a surplus of exertion, 
 but seem unskilled in adjusting it to the right place. They 
 are like Irving's Dutchman, who, having a ditch to leap, 
 went back so far to get a good run that when he got to the 
 ditch he had to sit down to blow. 
 
 In Xenophon's ISIemoirs, Socrates asks, " How is it that 
 some men live in abundance and have something to spare, 
 while others can scarcely obtain the necessaries of life, and 
 at the same time run in debt.^ " Isomachus replies: " The 
 reason is because the former occupy themselves with their 
 business, while the latter neglect it." One may conduct 
 business with energy and yet neglect it by misdirection. 
 The difterence between men consists mainly in the amount 
 of intelligence and energy they bring together. 
 
 The advice of many lecturers on life and how to live it, 
 is " to be up and at the first thing that comes along." But 
 these blind and spasmodic efforts rarely accomplish much. 
 
478 THE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 Decide on the direction your energ}' should take, first of all; 
 then look down, for opportunity crouches at your feet. Life 
 is too short, and vital force too much in demand for any 
 labor to be thrown away on chance. 
 
 Thomas Arnold declared that the dilTerence between two 
 boys consisted in energy rather than talents. Many of the 
 Rugby boys owe their fame and fortune to the good Doctor's 
 appreciation of a prompt, herculean stroke. He instilled the 
 principle of vigor into them till the}' were so full of it they 
 leaped fences and ditches like race-horses. This, however, 
 was all thoroughly controlled when they stepped w^ithin the 
 school inclosure, for then they were on their honor. Such 
 was his zeal for inculcating resolution that at times he was a 
 trifle abrupt. One day he had been counseling a young 
 man as to the necessity of seizing an occasion that had pre- 
 sented itself. "Yes, Doctor! " said he, "I see the chance, 
 and I'll strike when the iron is hot." " You're a fool," said 
 the Doctor, " take up your hammer and make it hot." 
 
 Many persons who have exhibited remarkable energy in 
 one calling, rush into another, forgetting to take their train- 
 ing with them. Ministers who have toiled for years in the 
 study, under righteous resignation to a constant pulpit 
 pressure, more exhausting in its influence than an air-pump, 
 undertake literature, and are grief-stricken if, in six months, 
 they are not written down as the peers of Bulwer and 
 George Eliot. Thev forget the long stretch of failure these 
 novelists stemmed before they began to monopolize atten- 
 tion. Mayor Hall, after a decided success in politics and 
 law, gained by relentless adhesion to business, imagined 
 himself a born actor; but after impersonating a "born hero" 
 in a most outrageous st3"le, he kicked off his buskins in 
 despair and fled in shame to England. 
 
PERSEVERANCE. 479 
 
 Olive Logan wrote saucy letters for the papers, and was 
 on the road to universal favoritism, but was seized with the 
 lecturing fever. One tour with her " Stage-Struck," so 
 horrified her friends, that she said she would " play quits, 
 drink Vichy, and push the quill." Anna Dickinson, winning 
 merited applause on the platform by her advocacy of bold 
 reformatory measures, conceived that the pleasure-seeking 
 world lacked a tragedienne, and she took to the stage. She 
 thought in one brief season to walk by the footlights to 
 glory. But empty benches, unappreciative audiences, and a 
 hurricane of criticism so upset this Joan of Arc that she sat 
 down and cried like a school-girl. 
 
 There are times when perseverence has been exercised 
 with great success in maintaining a Chesterfieldian grace 
 and politeness. This social art is important in the manage- 
 ment of inen and measures. Persistent politeness often 
 achieves what nothing else will. It was said to be more 
 pleasure to be denied a*favor by the Duke of Marlborough, 
 than to receive one from other men. He could turn the 
 most inveterate enemy into a friend by a half -day's inter- 
 course. His fascinating smile swayed the destinies of 
 empires, and his charming tongue and bows " kept together 
 the members of the grand alliance against France, and 
 directed them, in spite of their clashing interests, their 
 jealousies and perpetual dissensions, to the main object of 
 the war.' 
 
 The fascinating manners of Beau Brummel made him a 
 welcome guest in every circle of society. He lived, courted 
 and in splendor, without a dollar in his pocket. He was so 
 captivating that even his tailor would sit up all night to fin- 
 ish his suit of clothes, when he knew that all the compensa- 
 tion he would get would be to bask in his smiles. It has 
 
480 THE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 even been said by wise ones that manners make the man. 
 The}' certainly go a long way in making the gentleman. 
 
 A serene temperament, a suave speech, and the gallantr}' 
 of a Richelieu under petty annoyances, or before artful and 
 stupendous opposition, will put to rout an opponent when an 
 imperious mien will only serve to embolden him to greater 
 resistance. The patience of a Bonaparte, who, in the face 
 of winter and allied hosts, could dictate a kind letter to a 
 tardy quartermaster " to hurry up those overcoats, as the boys 
 were needing them," conquers armies; while the petulant 
 man, who flies to pieces at each pro^■ocation, creates the 
 defeat he fears. 
 
 It is said that the sunshine never left the face of Speaker 
 Colfax, even in the most excited debates or fierce wrangles 
 over his decisions from the Chair. A happ}' manner was 
 his key to the Speakership, and when he had smiled on the 
 people, from Boston to San Francisco, the}' unanimoush' 
 elected him Vice-President of the republic. His winning- 
 graces, more than any speech he ever made, 'carried him to 
 Congress for sixteen }-ears, and his self sacrifice in attending 
 to every want, and answering kindly every letter, from his 
 own district or that of any other member, made him, during 
 his terms, the most popular representative in the House. 
 
 Unfortunately, some of our moral reformers are in the 
 habit of permitting themselves to become so exasperated at 
 the world's ugliness before the}' start on their mission, that 
 their invectives make callous rather than soften the people's 
 hearts. Their severity calls for so much of our grace that we 
 have nothing left for our own infirmities. William L. Yancey 
 and Thad. Stevens were " mighty men of valor " for the 
 days of battle, but to avert a war or secure peace their 
 hands possessed no cunning. 
 
PERSEVERANCE. 481 
 
 Alexander H. Stephens would pipe out of that frail tab- 
 ernacle his cogent reasons for secession, and back them by 
 his ruling as Vice-President of the Confederacy; but it was 
 all done with such an ineffable sweetness of manner that the 
 whole North admired him. Robert Toombs no sooner 
 spoke than a yell of rage went up from every loyal throat. 
 " It is not so much," said Mr. Lincoln, " in what he says as 
 in the way he says it." Gail Hamilton will advocate 
 " woman's rights " in a lecture and all the men will go away 
 mad; Anna Dickinson will declare the same things on the 
 next evening, and they will all turn away with a smile, and 
 Relieve that Anna is about half right. 
 
 This principle is vividly illustrated b}' one of Beecher's 
 anecdotes. Two speakers, one an old Quaker and the other 
 a young man full of fire, went out advocating the abolition 
 of sla^'ery. When the Quaker talked the audience was all 
 "ears;" ever3'thing went smoothly; the young nodded 
 assent, and the thoughtful smiled approval. When the 
 other man came to speak the trouble began; yells, and 
 stones, and rotten eggs were their responses. It became so 
 noticeable that he spoke to the Quaker about it. " Friend, 
 you and I are on the same mission," said he, '' and preach 
 the same things. How is it that, while you are received 
 cordially, I get nothing but abuse .^ " The Quaker replied: 
 " I will tell thee. Thee says — * If you do so and so, you 
 will be punished,' and I say — ' If you will not do so and so 
 you will not be punished.' " They both had the same idea, 
 but there was a great deal of difference in the way they 
 expressed it. 
 
 It is soinetimes thought that courtesy is only another 
 name for effeminacy, but the lives of man}' of the most val- 
 orous sons of history assure us that true courage and civility 
 
482 TEE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 go hand in hand. The charming grace of Hannibal, as a 
 man, stands in striking contrast to his impetuosity as a 
 soldier. Although trained by nature and parentage to 
 impersonate eternal vengeance, it seemed only to increase 
 his gallantry as a geptleman. It was his great sj'mpath}' 
 for his soldiers that gave them heart to scale the Alps; and 
 when munitions of war and rations were cut short, his win- 
 ning ways did more to allay feeling and assuage distress 
 among his own forces than his elephants had done to destroy 
 the army of Scipio. Sir John Franklin never turned his 
 back upon danger, and yet he was a man of ineffable tender- 
 ness of soul. The Duke of Wellington was so habitually 
 kind that, when sixty years old, he said: "I never had a 
 quarrel with any man in my life." 
 
 Grace is the crowning perfection of the toiler's character, 
 and can only be won after long years of self-sacrifice and 
 struggle. " A noble and attractive every-day bearing," sa3-s 
 Huntingdon, " comes of goodness, of sincerity, of refine- 
 ment. And these are bred in years, not moments. The 
 principle that rules 3'our life is the sure posture-master. Sir 
 Philip Sidney was the pattern to all England of a perfect 
 gentleman; but then he was the hero that, on the field of 
 Zutphen, pushed away the cup of cold water from his own 
 fevered and parched lips, and held it out to the d^•ing soldier 
 at his side." 
 
 All men can not wait for results with equal resignation. 
 DeMaistre says: "To know how to wait is the great 
 secret of success." Temper in business, as in Christianity, 
 is nine-tenths of the battle. A cool head and a quiet heart 
 for the crown. Great ideas are not fruitful in an instant. 
 They must have due time to root themselves down and 
 germinate before they even appear above the surface. 
 
PERSE VERANCE. 483 
 
 Abraham died in faith, looking forward to a harvest of fruit, 
 which he, as an individual, never realized. His mind was 
 in acute s}'mpathy with the growing ideas of the world. 
 His pulse moved with the growing beat of human thought 
 and eagerness. There was a wonderful life • and spirit, 
 spring and joyousness in a man that could go out from 
 home, in that day, to an unknown land, and settle down 
 hopefully. But he was standing on the threshold of a new 
 world, with his e3'es fixed on the future. 
 
 Adam Smith sowed the seeds of social amelioration in the 
 Wealth of Nations, but seventy years passed before an}' sub- 
 stantial results could be gathered. Bacon, like Abraham, 
 lived a prophetic life, scattering oracles and pregnant sayings 
 into the darkness all about him. Luther died with but a 
 Pisgah's glimpse of the land he had led the children of bond- 
 age unto. 
 
 • Among the literary workers, Sir Walter Scott exhibited 
 greater perseverance, and perhaps received less credit for it, 
 than any other known author. He did the drudgery of a 
 lawyer's office for a long time, using his evenings to acquaint 
 himself with favorite authors. As a copying-clerk he was 
 allowed threepence a page. He sometimes copied one hun- 
 dred and twenty pages daily, from which he saved thirty 
 dollars, in our mone}-, a fund that supplied him with the 
 means for purchasing a few new books. He prided himself 
 upon being a man of business, and contradicted the cant of 
 sonneteers, that there is a necessary connection between 
 genius and a contempt for the common duties of life. 
 
 While clerk to the Court of Sessions, at Edinburgh, he per- 
 formed his literary work chiefly before breakfast, attending 
 the court during the da}'. " On the whole," says Lockhart, 
 " it forms one of the most remarkable features of his history 
 
48i THE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 that, throughout the most active period of his Hterary career 
 he must ha^'e devoted a large portion of his hours, during half 
 at least of every year, to the conscientious discharge of profes- 
 sional duties." "On one occasion, he said: "I determined 
 that literature should be my staff, not my crutch, and that the 
 profits of my literary labor, however convenient otherwise, 
 should not, if I could help it, become necessary to my ordi- 
 nary expenses." 
 
 He answered every letter the day it was received. Only 
 his clock-like punctuality, cultivated in that lawyer's office, 
 could ever have enabled him to keep abreast of the flood of 
 communications that poured in upon him. He rose at five, 
 dressed with deliberation, took a copious drink of water fresh 
 from the well, and by six sat down to his work. Every 
 paper stood before him in military order; the books of refer- 
 ence were marshaled around him on the floor; and one hand- 
 some dog, some times two, guarded the anterior line. At 
 nine he went to breakfast, '' having done enough to break 
 the neck of the day's work." With all his knowledge and 
 wonderful industry, he spoke of his own powers with the 
 greatest of diffidence. On one occasion he said, " Throughout 
 every part of my career I have felt pinched and hampered 
 by my own ignorance." 
 
 Compte de Buflbn illustrated his own saying, that " Genius 
 is patience," by his tireless industry. I extract an account 
 of him from Smiles' Self-Help, and am thereto indebted lor 
 the previous illustration: 
 
 " Notwithstanding the great results achieved by him in 
 natural history, Buflbn, when a 3-outh, was regarded as of 
 mediocre talents. His mind was slow in forming itself, and 
 slow in reproducing what it had acquired. He was also con- 
 stitutionally indolent; and, being born to good estate, it might 
 
PERSEVERANCE. 485 
 
 be supposed that he would indulge his liking for ease and 
 luxury, instead of which, he early formed the resolution of 
 denying himself pleasure, and devoting himself to study and 
 self-culture. Regarding time as a treasure that was limited, 
 and finding that he was losing many hours by lying abed in 
 the mornings, he determined to break himself of the habit. 
 He struggled hard against it for some time, but failed in being 
 able to rise at the hour he had fixed. He then called his 
 servant, Joseph, to his help, and promised him the reward of 
 a crown every tiine that he succeeded in getting him up 
 before six. At first, when called, Buftbn declined to rise — 
 pleaded that he was ill, or pretended anger at being disturbed ; 
 and on the Count at length getting up, Joseph found that he 
 had earned nothing but reproaches for ha\'ing permitted his 
 master to lie abed contrary to his express orders. At length 
 the valet determined to earn his crown; and again and again 
 he forced Buftbn to rise, notwithstanding his entreaties, expos- 
 tulations, and threats of immediate discharge from his serv- 
 ice. One morning Buffon was unusually obstinate, and Joseph 
 found it necessar}' to resort to the extreme measure of dash- 
 ing a basin of ice-cold water under the bed-clothes, the effect 
 of which was instantaneous. By the persistent use of such 
 means Buftbn at length conquered his habit; and he was 
 accustomed to say that he owed to Joseph three or four vol- 
 umes of his Natural Histor}'." 
 
 John Leyden was a Roxburghshire shepherd boy, who, 
 while watching the ftocks from the hill-side that overlooked 
 the little valley, taught himself to write by copyhig- the let- 
 ters of a printed book. Like Ferguson, who became an 
 astronomer while " tending sheep on the knolls," so Leyden's 
 mind lifted above the sheep, and was not contented without 
 a book. A bare-footed boy, he walked across the moors 
 
486 THE GENIUS OF INDUtiTRT. 
 
 some eight miles e\-ery da}-, to recite liis reading lesson to 
 the dominie at Kirkton; the remainder of his education he 
 acquired himself, by dint of hard study and what lie could 
 gather from the manor-men who were willing to answer 
 " that troublesome boy's questions." At last he bid poverty 
 defiance, and entered college at Edinburgh. He gained his 
 first notoriet}- by the frequency of his visits to Archibald Con- 
 stable's corner — the book store. It was his wont to climb a 
 ladder — for he had been so used to the hills — and balancing 
 himself at the top, he would sit for hours, poring over some 
 huge volume, forgetting the rye bread and water that waited 
 for his appetite to whet up to a relish of its brain-building 
 power. 
 
 To read a book or hear a lecture supplied the cravings of 
 his lite as nothing else could. " Thus he toiled and battled 
 at the gates of science, until his unconquerable persever- 
 ance carried every thing before it." At the age of twenty 
 he astonished the faculty of Edinburgh by the vastness of 
 his general information, and could quote more Greek and 
 Latin than an}' professor in the school. He longed to go to 
 India, but had not the means. A surgeon's commission was 
 given him, but he knew no more of medicine than one of his 
 pet lambs. He could learn. He must pass examination in 
 six months. Without a thought of failure, he set to work 
 to acquire in six months what usually required three }ears. 
 He took his degree with honor, and even found time, before 
 he embarked, to publish his poem on The Scenes of Infancy. 
 
 Some of the most illustrious achievements on mechanics 
 and literature have been the natural product of persever- 
 ance. Their authors little anticipated the vast results that 
 were to flow from them. The}- did the work to meet a 
 present demand, and their indomitable energ}- dro\-e them 
 
PERSEVERANCE. 487 
 
 on until their labor was crowned with a perfection that will 
 be fruitful fore\-er. When those sturdy old fathers, who 
 had to make their " mark," wrung Magna Charta from 
 King John, for their present amelioration, they had no 
 thought of buttressing the people's rights until England 
 would become liberal and America free, so that a inan 
 should be as great as a king. Man is so constructed that, 
 if he will let any good desire within him have its perfect 
 work, results will grow out of it his philosophy never 
 dreamed of 
 
 When George Stephenson contrived to turn the waste 
 steam of his engine up the chimney, so as to lessen the noise 
 of its escape, he had no conception of the beneficial results 
 accruing to mechanics. When he projected the self-acting 
 incline along the declivity of the Willington ballast-quay, 
 he did not know that this invention of his brain would take 
 new form in an engine bearing a thousand lives over moun- 
 tain and valley, at the rate of forty miles an hour. Milton 
 toiled for long months over Paradise Lost. His soul was 
 full of the great thought, and he must wreak it out in an 
 epic, though it was labor like forging iron from the blast. 
 He loved the darling child, but when Jacob Tonson, the 
 publisher, said he could give but £5 for such a work, no 
 wonder genius paled when it came to Paradise Regained. 
 Could Milton have known that in one hundred years the 
 copyright would be worth one hundred thousand dollars, 
 and his heaven-born raptures would feed the imagination of 
 orators and poets innumerable, he would have felt that his 
 persistence in having every sentence "just so," would have 
 its own reward. 
 
 No less forcible are the examples where conscientious 
 efibrt to do the whole duty has borne its high results. The 
 
488 TUB GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 mighty reformation of John Wesley started in his endeavor 
 to promote personal piety among the inembers of the Estab- 
 lished Church. HoHness gained such an impetus b}' the 
 godly man's life and persistent proclamation, that the Estab- 
 lishment was not large enough to contain it. The tidal- 
 wave of a " new consecration " swept o\er the breakwaters 
 of sectarianism, and before Mr. Wesley's death, the Metho- 
 dist itinerant's voice rang from Christ's Hospital to the 
 jungles of Africa, and across the forests and rivers of the 
 new continent. Everywhere people were made to feel the 
 warmth which a " little fire " had kindled. 
 
 The Syn-Chronological Chart of S. C. Adams had its 
 origin in the author's efforts to illustrate to a Sunday school 
 the contemporaneous events of history. Like the young 
 artist who took his first lessons in drawing with a burnt 
 stick on a barn door, Adams undertook to exhibit the religi- 
 ous and profane history of the same date, by lines and pic- 
 tures drawn on a " sheet of foolscap." The efforts soon 
 interested the entire school. The author early found them 
 of value to himself in his studies, and they came to be a 
 necessity in the day-school room. Finall}*, after ten years 
 of labor — labor such as few men have ever given to any sub- 
 ject — he has knocked the tangle out of the web of history, 
 and put on his can\'as, to the comprehension of a single 
 glance, the contemporaneous acts, inventions, discoveries, 
 and founding and deca}' of empires, as the nations have 
 marched down the path of time — a volume of inestimable 
 value to school-room, scholar, and statesman. 
 
 The greater portion of the illustrious men of England 
 have come from the ranks, notwithstanding it is a land of 
 caste and inheritance. And the difficulty of attaining a suc- 
 cess that will be recognized in such a land, can hardly be 
 
PERSEVERANCE. 489 
 
 appreciated in this country. Admiral Hobson was a tailor's 
 apprentice, but the appearance of a squadron of men-of-war 
 excited in him a desire for the sea. Accepted on board as 
 a volunteer, he fled the shop without warning, but twenty 
 years afterward, full of honor, he came back to the cottage 
 at Bonchurch, and dined off bacon and beans. When he 
 broke the boom at Vigo, he broke the back of caste, and 
 wrenched from the king's hand an admiral's hat. Sir 
 Cloudesley Shovel began his career as a cabin-boy, and 
 Cook, the navigator, worked many 3-ears as a common day- 
 laborer. Noticing some handsomely-dressed bo3s at Eaton, 
 Lagrange said, " Had / been rich, I should probably not 
 have become a mathematician." 
 
 The elegant and eloquent John Erskine had the upper- 
 blood in his veins, but it was unfortunatel}" not backed bj' 
 the necessary passport to society. Miserably poor, but 
 grandly defiant of his fortunate relations, he said : " Indus- 
 try is worth more than a peerage;" and his name to-day 
 outranks them all, and he is the peer of peers. Shakspeare's 
 family was so humble that he never cared to reveal its true 
 character, and he has left only the impression that he was a 
 wool-comber; but he has been set down as a scrivener's 
 clerk, usher, and many other things. Like Charles Dickens, 
 the battlings of his early years, from pillar to post, wherever 
 a penny or a crust might be earned, made him " all man- 
 kind's epitome." 
 
 The many parts he had played gave him an inexhaustible 
 bank, whence he checked out passion and speeches for his 
 players. " For such is the accuracy of his sea phrases that 
 a naval writer alleges that he must have been a sailor; while 
 a clergvman infers, from internal evidence of his writings 
 that he was probably a parson's clerk; and a distinguished 
 
490 THE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 judge of horse flesh insists that he must have been a horse- 
 dealer." When he played at the theater, he was known 
 to spend the greater part of his nights after the '• piece " in 
 writing — while the inspiration was on him ^ and the day 
 was given to the stud}' of history. His writings have doubt- 
 less exercised a powerful influence on the morals of the 
 English throne, and been a large factor in molding the char- 
 acter of the nation. 
 
 Even the peerage itself has "stooped " and plucked many 
 of its brightest stars from the ranks. Smiles says: "One 
 reason why the peerage of England has succeeded so well 
 in holding its own, arises from the fact that, unlike the peer- 
 ages of other countries, it has been fed, from time to time, by 
 the best industrial blood of the country — the ver}^ '' liver, 
 heart and brain of Britain." Like the fabled Antaeus, it has 
 been invigorated and refreshed by touching its mother earth, 
 and mingling with that most ancient order of nobility — the 
 working order." 
 
 Lord Tenterden was a barber's son. Family necessities 
 compelled the father to keep the boy to shave the commoner 
 class and stick on the leeches. It is thought he bled as 
 many with the razor as he did with the leeches; but on the 
 father's death, the shop was abandoned, and the bo}' went 
 to shift for himself. He could whistle and sing, but that 
 was about all he seemed good for; so his mother sought for 
 him a place in the choir at the cathedral. Here he remained 
 a few months, and was then displaced by a former singing 
 rival. 
 
 This disapointment diverted his thought to another chan- 
 nel, and changed his whole career. He determined to do 
 something in which he could rel}- on himself, and he did it. 
 His struggle for independence was severe and long, but, be- 
 
PEBSEVERANCE. 491 
 
 cause he was independent, he succeeded. He conquered 
 the King's Bench, and took his seat as Lord Chief Justice. 
 When he and Mr. Justice Richards were tra\'eling the Home 
 Circuit together, the}- attended services at the old cathedral; 
 and on the Justice complimenting the voice of a certain man 
 in the choir. Lord Tenterdcn replied: "Ah! that is the only 
 man I ever envied! When at school in this town we were 
 candidates for a chorister's place, and he obtained it." 
 
 Many a young man is forever ruined because he gets an 
 agency or clerkship, and feels certain of fifty dollars a month. 
 He looks fondly forward to the time when he will be pro- 
 prietor of that business himself, but he feels happ}' o\er his 
 fifty dollars, with little to do. He never feels a need of put- 
 ting his idle moments in — to do for his employer such extra 
 work as was not bargained for. He never feels that he is 
 one of the partners of that firm, and that its success is his 
 advancement — he never studies the steps that led the head 
 of the firm into his present position — nor seems to realize 
 that his doing more work than any man in the employment 
 is what keeps him there. These are the things clerks that 
 sit around never think of. They despise the spirit of the 
 cellar drudgery that brought Frank Longley to an affluent 
 partnership. They propose to glide their way over a gilt 
 track, riding into preferment upon a palace car. 
 
 Never accept a clerkship except as a stepping-stone. Use 
 it as a means of rising higher. It saps all the independence 
 out of a man. It breaks down his spirit. It destroys his 
 self-reliance, and frequently turns him into a ninn}-. Better 
 control your own business at five hundred a year than fag 
 for another at a thousand. You may not make so much 
 money — though we believe it is not the experience of 
 
492 THE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 clerks now-a-days to grow rich — but in mental thrift and 
 manhood }ou will clear a large per cent. 
 
 Push on to victory. Rather than settle down satisfied 
 with a moderate stipend, muster up courage and " go 
 West" — GO TO THE WOODS — GO ANYWHERE that 
 shall compel you to assert your individuality; and, from the 
 scaffolding of genuine exertion, build up a genuine manhood, 
 calling no man master. 
 
 Lord Langdale was on the brink of despair several times 
 before the world recognized his talents, and even then he 
 did not reach fame by any sudden flight. Born the 
 son of a poor surgeon, he was educated for that profession. 
 But limited practice and extreme povert}^ served to increase 
 young Bickersteth's dislike for a calling that had been 
 distasteful to him from the very beginning. He now deter- 
 mined to plead at the bar. 
 
 Slowl}' his star advanced. His mind was burdened, night 
 and day, by the cause of his client, as the river bears the 
 great vessel to its destiny. And there were no rapids in his 
 current — it was a steady, straightforward stream. He never 
 said a brilliant thing, but he was always profoundly in 
 earnest. He never made a great speech, but he always 
 made a good one. He never did anything for glor}'. He 
 was a conscientious worker. He always knew the law in 
 the case, and knew how to apply it. His perseverance and 
 honest work brought to his door more clients than he could 
 wait upon, and the afternoon of his life was crowned with 
 wealth and reputation, and a seat in the House of Peers, as 
 Baron Langdale. 
 
 Lord EUenborough was a man of the Dr. Johnson stamp, 
 so conscious of his superiority over common men that it 
 marred everything he said and did. But though destined to 
 
PEBSEVEUANCE. 493 
 
 attain merit he did not attempt it at the neglect of persever- 
 ance. He knocked at the door of the Inner Temple several 
 years longer than Langdale before it opened unto his com- 
 mand. He never tired of study. He would turn the old, 
 musty law records over and over, with peculiar delight. 
 And at times, when he grew sated with all study and no 
 practice, he would get down his great motto that he had 
 scrawled on a paste-board square: " Read or starve,'' and 
 feast his aching eyes, until his stomach asked for another 
 book. 
 
 Just before his unlooked-for employment as one of the 
 attorney's of Warren Hastings he wrote this to Archdeacon 
 Coxe: " Let us cheerfully push our wa}' in our different 
 lines; the path of neither of us is strewed with roses, but 
 they will terminate in happiness and honor. I can not, how- 
 ever, now and then help sighing, when I think how inglorious 
 an apprenticeship we both of us serve to ambition, while you 
 teach a child the rudiments and I drudge the pen for attor- 
 ne3's. But if knowledge and a respectable position are to 
 be purchased only on those terms, I, tor ni}- part, can readil}' 
 say, Hac me)-cede placet.'''' 
 
 Position and wealth are not able to cope with perse- 
 verance. Many jealous do-nothings prate about the power 
 of money and aristocracy. But the Samsons tear off 
 the gates of this Gaza, and pass through their walls at 
 pleasure. 
 
 The most distinguished divines have come to eminence 
 •over a thorny path, and some of them have traveled to 
 Jerusalem by the "Jericho road." No poor traveler that 
 had been set upon by thieves was ever left in a more piteous 
 plight than John Wesley, when he started for the pulpit, 
 having just closed an " interview " with his wife, the " widow 
 
494 TUE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 Vizelle." Henr}' Ward Beecher began his pulpit efforts on 
 three hundred dollars a year, was preacher, pastor and 
 sexton, and sa}'s he was glad of the chance. With all his 
 splendid talents, nothing short of perseverance that amounted 
 almost to a lofty genius, enabled Francis Wa3'land to 
 become President of Brown Uni\ersity, and stamp the 
 literature of his denomination with a new life. So poor he 
 was able to take but one theological year at Andover; so 
 poorly clad he was kept out of society while there; so proud 
 he would neither beg nor borrow, lor the rayless future gave 
 no hope of means to repay; so determined to get on that, 
 when he had to decide between an overcoat and Schleusner's 
 Lexicon, he walked fast or sta\'ed at home to supply the 
 need of a coat, and bought the book; so resolved to adorn 
 his profession that, in spite of these harassments and 
 slender opportunities, he retii^ed from Andover in great 
 credit, and so accomplished that he stepped to the pastorate 
 of the First Baptist Church in Boston. 
 
 His first great effort at discourse, " The Moral Dignity 
 of the Missionary Enterprise," created no impression, and 
 was a complete failure. But, it " happened " to be pub- 
 lished, and created such an interest that it ran through 
 several editions. It put a new missionary spirit into his own 
 brethren, and rekindled the smoldering fires in many dying 
 societies. Within three years from that sermon he went to 
 the Presidency of Brown University. 
 
 Xavier Thiriat was of poor parentage, and at ten years of 
 age became so helplessly crippled that he could onl}' move 
 about by crawling on his hands and knees. But the little 
 boy who had plunged into the water and received a life-par- 
 alysis in the saving of a child, was father to the man; for 
 the invincible vim of his after life was doubtless indicated 
 
PEliSEVERAJSlCE. 495 
 
 by the bravery of his boyhood. He borrowed books, for 
 the family could not buy, and paid the little girl who 
 brought and returned them by telling her the stories he 
 read. His newspaper articles soon attracted attention, and 
 money and opportunities for his labor soon showered upon 
 him. But he scorned to be a pauper, and contended that 
 " perseverance was all any man needed, blind or halt, to 
 earn a living." He became a botanist, meteorologist, and 
 geologist, and won the gold medal of the French Franklin 
 Society. 
 
 Even the sublimest of arts, oratory, the great masters tell 
 us, is not born, but cultivated, in men. ^Eschines won the 
 affections of the people, and bore his vast audiences on the 
 tide of his rolling sentences to the haven of his conclusions, 
 as the mighty waves bear onward the great ships. But no 
 man appreciated more keenl}^ the value of preparation, and 
 he surel}' paid the successful man's price for the great repu- 
 tation he acquired. Half the day, for twenty-five days 
 before delivering a certain oration, was spent in the practice 
 of gesture, posture, modulation and emphasis ; and the other 
 half was spent in sharpening his sentences and polishing his 
 words. He claimed that no man could become a great 
 orator without incessant drill. To this end he established 
 his famous school, to which even Cicero went, and, doubt- 
 less, by so doing, won much of his perfection. 
 
 England has perhaps produced no greater orator than Sir 
 Robert Peel. A man of ordinary abilities, he came, by 
 cultivation, to be the most persuasive speaker in the House 
 of Commons. At five years of age, his father would stand 
 him on a table and sa}-: " Robin, make us a speech, and I 
 will give you this cherry." The family never failed to 
 applaud the efibrts of the little fellow, and on doing better 
 
496 TEE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 than usual, the fathei- would pat him on the head, and say: 
 " Well done, my boy! }"ou'll make the powdered wigs trem- 
 ble some day." He would read a passage in a book every 
 day, and, while his father held the book, would declaim as 
 much of it as he could. On coming from the parish church 
 of a Sunday morning, he passed at once to the study, and 
 rehearsed all of the sermon he could remember, and then 
 criticised the pronunciation and style of the preacher. Thus 
 his habit of attention grew powerful, and at the age of 
 twenty he could repeat an hour's speech almost verbatim. 
 When he came in Parliament to reply to the " all-day 
 speeches " of his opponents, and, without notes, took up the 
 arguments in succession, stating them clearly and fully, to 
 the astonishment of his hearers and defeat of his adversary; 
 no one suspected that old Drayton Church and the drill of 
 an ambitious father had made him this Mirabepu of the 
 House. 
 
 Wendell Phillips is a man of extraordinary parts by nature, 
 but even he did not become " the most splendid orator of 
 America " until, like Michael Angelo (who often went a 
 week without taking off his clothes), he brought himself to 
 the head of his profession by study, and not b}' genius. 
 After having selected a subject on which to write, he cons 
 it over for weeks, so that the mind becomes thoroughly 
 saturated with it, oozing at every pore. He then shuts him- 
 self up for days, giving way wholly to the thought. B}' 
 this time he has digested every idea connected with the 
 theme ; then, as the mountain can not hold its volcanic force 
 in chains forever, so with pen and paper he finds vent, let- 
 ting the pent-up lava of his soul burst 'forth. The speech 
 once written, one would think the work done; but it has just 
 begun. 
 
PERSEVERANCE. 497 
 
 With reference-books he examines every statement; then, 
 controlled by his high standard of vigor and brevity, he cuts 
 and slashes through sentences and paragraphs, paring, slic- 
 ing, splitting, or rooting out summarily. Thus he purges 
 away all the dross, and leaves only pure metal. Now he 
 takes dictionary and thesaurus, and travels patiently over 
 every word, expunging every one of double or doubtful 
 meaning, replacing with the simplest phrases, yet the richest 
 and inost comprehensive that language atibrds. This lec- 
 ture, that now stands, like the queen's crown, valuable 
 "within itself, but dazzling with the luster of its precious set- 
 tings, is next committed to memory, and then the painstak- 
 ing care of a Charles Sumner before his full-length mirror, 
 training every facial expression and posture of arm, sets him 
 to the production in ferfectio7i. Now, and not until now, 
 he opens his lips on the rostrum. Scholars are delighted 
 with his ornate periods, and astonished at the precision of 
 his knowledge; and, while he buries his great audiences 
 under a mass of information, it is all done with such ease 
 that they look upon it only as an outburst of the great 
 -oracle. 
 
 How many " impromptu bursts of genius " that astonish 
 the court, melt the pew-holders, or cave in the heads of the 
 hardy yeomanry, by their Titanic grasp, ha\'e been elabor- 
 ated in the study will never be known. But, fortunately for 
 the encouragement of the struggling youth of our day, 
 almost all of the " giants " have left on record denials of 
 spontaneous power; they have persisted that their knowl- 
 edge came by slow accretions, as the insects build the coral 
 strands; and that the ability to utilize effectively these 
 acquirements, was only attained after years of persevering 
 application. 
 
498 THE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 These giants are, with rare exceptions, seH-made men. 
 Inured to toil; used to knocking every obstacle out of their 
 way with a sledge-hammer.; in the habit of toiling like the 
 very beasts of the field, and eating their meals with a drip- 
 ping brow, they become so accustomed to paying out labor 
 for all they get, that a result not self-purchased would startle 
 them beyond measure. Thus' these men unselfishly toil, and 
 their simple-hearted virtue becomes their lever of prefer- 
 ment. 
 
 Colonel Baker graphically pictured our successful men in 
 one sentence of his masterly oration over the murdered 
 Broderick: "He rose unaided and alone; he began his 
 career without family or fortune, in the face of difficulties ; 
 he inherited poverty and obscurity; hfe died a Senator in 
 Congress, having written his name in the history of the 
 great struggle for the rights of the people, against the 
 despotism of organization, and the corruption of power.' 
 
 Colonel Baker himself was a self-made man, and one of 
 the most entrancing of orators. On his return from the 
 Mexican war, in an ovation that was tendered him, he deliv- 
 ered one of the most eloquent speeches of his life, and 
 apparently on the spur of the moment. A curious literary 
 friend said to him next da}': "Colonel, how long did it 
 take you to get up that speech.'' " " Fort3'-two years, sir." 
 Baker was just that age. Edward Everett once assigned 
 as his reason for declining to deliver an oration before an 
 Eastern college, that he had " but six weeks for prepara- 
 tion." 
 
 Facility is gained by labor. Any man of mediocre tal- 
 ents ma}- acquire excellence in the field of his predilections, 
 and may acquire it with great rapidity, if he will serve a 
 long enough apprenticeship. But unless one will practice a 
 
PERSEVERANCE. 499 
 
 half-hour a day for fifteen years, in extempore speaking, as 
 Henry Clay did, he need not expect his impromptu efforts 
 to be remembered ver}- long. To be able, with The Wizard 
 of the North — Sir Walter Scott — to fling off forty pages a 
 day, and send them to the press without a revising glance, 
 demands his patient drill and thirty years of perseverance. 
 If, with Gibbon, you would send " the last three quarto 
 volumes of an immortal history uncopied to the press," you 
 must first spend a life-time in getting ready to do it. If 
 you would have the golden speech of John Philpot Curran, 
 whose commonest utterance in conversation gleamed with a 
 luster that Chesterfield could not impart to his most polished 
 sentence, take those lips to a master, and assiduously guard 
 the inflection of every syllable. 
 
 The great conversers, writers, and orators have gone 
 through an amount of study , memorizing, and copying, that of 
 itself would be more work than most men perform in a life- 
 time. Opie, the painter, was never satisfied with any of his 
 works, and while giving the finishing strokes to his pictures, 
 would step back to scrutinize. Beholding the deformity that 
 his eye alone could detect, with a groan of despair he would 
 rush into his wife's sitting-room, and flinging himself on the 
 sofa, exclain: "I know I shall never make a painter!" 
 That inability to do justice to his conceptions was the scor- 
 pion which stung him up to produce immortal works. The 
 difference between ephemeral and immortal works, in nine- 
 tenths of the cases, consists in the polish that perseverance 
 puts on. 
 
 Thomas Erskine, whose matchless gestures and mellifluous 
 tones doubtless added a great deal to the force of his sen- 
 tences, acknowledged that persistent study of Burke assisted 
 the graces of his own generous diction more than any thing 
 
500 THE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 else. He possessed a passion for this autlior, reading him so 
 constantly that he could quote many of his eloquent strains, 
 page after page, almost verbatim. It was the tranfusing of 
 Burke's higher self into his own flexible and adroit nature — 
 a very happy oratorical cross — that gave the world a style 
 as original as it was dashing and elegant. 
 
 Lord Chesterfield tells us he determined to acquire a pol- 
 ished diction while yet a school-bo}', and set himself to the 
 task like a work-horse. He carefully treasured e^■el•y bril- 
 iant sentence in a lecture, and carried it from the hall, in a 
 book prepared for that purpose. No new word could escape 
 the devouring ear of this Dionysius; no elegant phrase in con- 
 versation missed his grasp; no old word came up in a new 
 setting, but he would snatch it as a pilferer would a " diamond 
 set to gold," and make off with it to his den. He copied 
 every fine passage he met with in reading, and filled whole 
 blank-books with these elegancies translated forward and 
 backward through the German, French, and English, and 
 sometimes through Greek and Latin. B}' this method he 
 sought to seize the richness of every tongue, and pour it on 
 to his English page. A certain eloquence, he says, at last 
 became habitual to him, and it would have given him more 
 trouble to express himself inelegantl}' than ever he had taken 
 to avoid the defect. 
 
 Twelve years on the coast with a mouthful of pebbles was 
 not able to make Demosthenes the orator of the ages. No; 
 he spoke in Athens, and something more than gesture and 
 intonation was required. He must have words — not simple 
 fluency, but words — mint-coined; words " to express the 
 most varying emotions of the mind by a suitable and ever- 
 changing rhythm;" words echoing thunder and bursting with 
 lightning; words inspired by the associations of the Areopa- 
 
PEliSEVERANCE. 501 
 
 gus, and marshaled to order b}- the "Master of Arts." To 
 this end did the orator of Atl:iens transcribe Thucydides 
 again and again. And it is this splendid citadel of sculptured 
 sentences that has maintained his eloquence through the cen- 
 turies. 
 
 Moore wrote with the patience of Gray and the fastidious- 
 ness of Pope. He said that " labor is the parent of all the 
 lasting wonders of the world." Truly did he labor on that 
 little wonder, Lalla Rookh. After he had spent years in 
 gathering the materials, scouring over Persia and all the 
 Orient for illustrations, and had the work largely toward com- 
 pletion, he several times came near gi\'ing it up in despair. 
 Nothing but his children cr3"ing for bread, and the prospect 
 of three thousand pounds when the poem was through the 
 press, ever brought it to completion. He worried over each 
 word, like Virgil over the ^Eneid, and not a single line was 
 published as it was originall}' penned. Goldsmith composed 
 The Traveler at the rate of twenty lines a day; but Moore 
 felt that ten lines was a leviathan's load. He was continu- 
 ally searching for the right word. Washington Irving was 
 once riding in the streets of Paris with Moore, when their 
 hackney coach, plunging into a deep rut, came out with such 
 a jerk as to send their heads against the roof. "By Jove! 
 Fve got it f'' cried Moore, clapping his hands with glee. 
 "Got what.^" said Irving. " Wh}'," said the poet, "that 
 Tvord I've been hunting for six weeks, to complete my last 
 song. That rascally driver has jolted it out of me." 
 
 Many pages might be filled recounting the patient perse- 
 verance of our own great writers and speakers — of Webster, 
 Marshall, Calhoun, and Clay; of Whittier, Longfellow, Bry- 
 ant, and Holmes; of Edward Everett, Washington Irving, 
 and James Russell Lowell — men who traveled over conti- 
 
50a TEE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 nents of books for illustrations, and ground every sentence 
 down on the refining-stone of criticism till it flashes like a 
 dew-drop. 
 
 The men of science have exhibited as great perseverance 
 as any other workers, although they are less certain of 
 results than the trader, speaker and writer. Sir Humphrey 
 Davy extemporized the greater part of his instruments for 
 experimenting out of the odd pans and vessels in the back 
 room of the drug-store. Faraday heard one of Davy's lect- 
 ures, and while yet a book-binder, began his electrical 
 experiments with an old bottle. When twenty years of age, 
 Davy registered in his note book, in his hopeful way the deter- 
 mination of his life: "I have neither riches, nor power, nor 
 birth to recommend me; yet, if I live, I trust I shall not be 
 of less service to mankind and m}' friends than if I had been 
 born with these advantages." The apothecary's boy finall}' 
 bid adieu to his mortar and pestle, and went to the head of 
 the Royal Institution of London. 
 
 Cuvier, the distinguished French naturalist, fortunately 
 discovered a volume of Buffon, when he was ten years old, 
 and by the time he was twelve had all the " animals of cre- 
 ation " painted on bits of paper, and he knew their names 
 and descriptions by heart. The Duke of Wurtemberg sent 
 him to the Academy of Stuttgart, where one of the profes- 
 sors gave him a copy of the System of Nature, by Linnoeus, 
 and this was his librar}' on natural history for eight years. 
 While tutor for a family in Normand}', he found a cuttle- 
 fish stranded on the beach. It was the first practical lesson 
 that had ever been presented to him, so he took it home, 
 and alone in his room with the fish and his one book, he 
 commenced the study of the mollusk. 
 
 He then began his comparisons of fossils with living 
 
PERSEVERANCE. 503 
 
 species, spending every spare hour from the school-room in 
 the one research. He raced the country over, through bog 
 and fen, rocky hill and ocean beach, until his health was seri- 
 ously impaired. The obscure youth felt so positive that there 
 ought to be a reform in the classification of animals, that he 
 ventured to write to Geoffrey St, Hilaire, suggesting it. 
 When Abbe Teissier wrote up to Paris, making the young 
 naturalist's bow for him, he said: "You remember that it 
 was I who gave Delambre to the Academy in another 
 branch of science. This also will be a Delambre." The 
 professors discovered that young Cu\ier, in the poverty of 
 his Normandy fastness, while fondling the living and dissect- 
 ing the dead, had carved out a new path for natural science 
 in which she must hereafter walk. Meanwhile Cuvier 
 steadily pursued his observations and writings, thus fulfilling 
 Teissier's prediction. 
 
 The Italian cardinal, Beinbo, found time to slip from the 
 arms of the beautiful Morosina, and could leave his duties 
 as secretary to Leo X long enough to " promote " 
 his essays and dissertations. He had a writing desk with 
 thirty pigeon-holes. When an article was written it was 
 placed in hole one. When he found time he would come 
 back and go over it carefulh' and advance it to the next. 
 At another time he would cull out or add to, and send it a 
 step higher, and so on he would go with unwearied patience 
 until the article had scaled the last ditch, and then it was 
 ready for the bishops and cardinals. 
 
 When Robert Hall was correcting his sermon on Modern 
 Infidelity, on coming to that famous passage, " Eternal God, 
 on what are Thy enemies intent.'' What are those enter- 
 prises of guilt and horror, that for the safety of their 
 performers require to be enveloped in a darkness which the 
 
504 THE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 eye of Heaven must not penetrate?" — he exclaimed to Dr. 
 Gregory: ^^ Petietrate! did I say -penetrate.! sir, when I 
 preached it? " " Yes." "Do you think, sir, T may venture 
 to alter it? for no man who considers the force of the En- 
 glish language would use a word of three syllables there but 
 from absolute necessity. For -penetrate put pierce — pierce 
 is the word, sir, and the only word to be used there." Sher- 
 idan used to go to hear Rowland Hill, because his ideas 
 " came red-hot.'''' The golden-mouthed Chrysostom prepared 
 his sermons with painful care, while Beecher is so desirous 
 of being understood that words of four s}'llables are almost 
 strangers to his sermons. 
 
 Example is infectious. To this end, the great Apostle 
 said: " Provoke one another to good works." The Chinese 
 knew the worth of this lash, and started their anecdote be- 
 fore the Apostle's injunction: "A student threw down his 
 book, disheartened, when, seeing a woman rubbing a crow- 
 bar on a stone, he inquired the reason, and was told she 
 wanted a needle, and thought she would rub down the crow- 
 bar until she got it small enough. Provoked b}^ her 
 example of patience, he resumed his studies, and became 
 one of the three foremost scholars in the Celestial Empire." 
 On being asked his secret, Turner replied: "I have no 
 secret but hard work. This is a secret that many never 
 learn, and they don't succeed because they don't learn it. 
 Labor is the genius that changes the world from ugliness to 
 beauty, and the great curse to a great blessing." 
 
'ok?! Yn 
 
 M. 
 
vcmm ^- hm 
 
 Ah, Sir Lancelot, thou wert head of all Christian knights; and now, I dare 
 say thou, Sir Lancelot, there thou liest, that thou wert never matched of earthly 
 knight's hand; and thou wert the courtliest knight that ever bore shield . . . 
 . . . and thou wert the kindliest man that ever strake with sword, and thou 
 wert the goodliest person that ever came among the press of knights; and 
 t'lou wert the meekest man and the gentlest that ever ate in hall among ladies; 
 and thou wert the sternest knight to thy mortal foe that ever put spear in rest. 
 Tie Mart iV Arthur of Sir Thomas Malory. 
 
N the Old Dominion, in the County of Westmore- 
 land, rendered illustrious as the birth-place of 
 George Washington, Robert E. Lee was bom. It 
 was the happy fortune of young Lee to be nursed on the 
 breast of gentle manners, and to breathe from infancy the 
 pure air of virtue and culture. He was surrounded by 
 every advantage that wealth, position and family lineage 
 could give. His mother was descended from a distinguished 
 Virginia family. His father was the son of a patriot of the 
 Revolution, an eminent soldier, and the historian of the 
 struggle for independence; in the South the Governor of 
 his Commonwealth; the life-long personal and political 
 friend of Washington, and the orator selected by the Con- 
 gress of the United States to pronounce his eulog}'. 
 
 An old and settled society existed in Virginia, rich in the 
 tradition of centuries, characterized bv simplicit}' of manners, 
 genial courtesy and hospitality, purity and refinement of 
 domestic life, honor, dignity and chivalry among her public 
 men, and a general and unaffected respect for religion. 
 Reared in this social atmosphere, the plastic years of this 
 favored son were deeply influenced by its tastes and senti- 
 ments. 
 
508 TUE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 Robert Lee sprang from a family ancient and illustrious in 
 the use of arms. The law of heredity asserted itself 
 in him. lie early manifested the martial tendenc}- and 
 heraldic spirit that had marked his ancestral line since the 
 days of the Norman conqueror. The limits of transmitted 
 tendencies have not yet been announced by the philosophers. 
 It comes very near being an accepted conclusion in America 
 that family traits are not inherited by the second genera- 
 tion. The distinctive characteristics which give one man 
 prominence seem to exhaust all their ^"itality in his career, 
 and he is incapable of perpetuating them in his posterity. It 
 is a rare thing to hnd a father who was a successful mer- 
 chant succeeded b}- a son who is also successful. It is 
 seldom that the son in the law office is as good a law3'er as 
 the father. The fathers who have accumulated millions of 
 dollars, in most instances leave a family of children, who not 
 only are unable to add to their wealth but are not even able 
 to hold what was given to them. There is little danger of 
 a hereditary aristocracy of brains or wealth. It took the 
 feudal tenure system to create such a caste in the old world. 
 The Israelites have maintained their general traits of charac- 
 ter under all the adversities attendant upon a national 
 dispersion lasting for more than eighteen centuries. Families 
 also assert their "general qualities" at all times, but the 
 phenomenal gifts which create the man a genius, are indi- 
 vidual, and ordinarily the steady on-goings of nature refuse 
 to recognize these qualities as belonging to the material in 
 the make-up of that family line. 
 
 There have been some notable exceptions to this rule. 
 The elder Adams had a worthy successor in his son, John 
 Quincy; and the elements of statesmanship and eloquence 
 are to be found in the third generation that inhabit Massa- 
 
ROBERT E. LEE. 509 
 
 chusetts at this time. Commodore Vanderbilt found, 
 contrary to his own expectations, all his own financial genius 
 developed in his son, William II., who, in turn, finds 
 his sons, the third generation, gifted with that singular 
 financiering capacit}' which has amassed two hundred 
 millions of dollars within fifty years. The Astor famil}', 
 since its founder, a hundred years ago, laid the foundation 
 of its wealth in the fur trade, has never known a spendthrift 
 nor an idler. Such instances are rare. They furnish no 
 sufficient ground for a theory that will encourage a youth to 
 examine the career of his ancestors to learn the material of 
 which he is made. 
 
 No phenomenal exhibition of power affords a clue to either 
 hope or fear for the qualities in one's self To follow the 
 burden of testimony, as the lawyers do, would be to till 
 every breast with apprehension, for where there has been an 
 unusual exhibition of powers the cases are vastly in the 
 majority where the descendants have gone as far below 
 mediocrity as the ancestor was notable in his attainments. 
 Bonaparte, who could live in the saddle twenty hours out of 
 the twenty-four and know no fatigue, who wrapped his 
 cloak about him and lay down on the field of Austerlitz on 
 the frozen ground and was fast asleep in five minutes, who 
 was a greater strategist than the accepted military tacticians 
 of the world, and contrary to all their known rules of warfare, 
 and, in spite of them, crushed the five great 'coalitions of 
 Austria with, the other powers, left a son who could not 
 comprehend the simplest military movements, who spent 
 half his time in bed, who could not sleep for nervous excite- 
 ment, and who died from exhaustion at the age of twenty- 
 one. The world never heard of Palissy's son. Calhoun, 
 
510 THE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 Jefferson and Benton had no sons able to fill their father's 
 sphere. 
 
 A thousand men in the past fifty years have died worth a 
 half million dollars, and their children are dying now as 
 paupers. From Louis XIV to Hugo, no French statesman 
 has left a copy worthy of his sire. Who ever heard of the 
 sons of Plato, of Socrates, or Homer, of the sons of the Duke 
 of Marlborough, of Lord Palmerston, or Stephen A. Doug- 
 las.'' Hannibal, Caesar and Washington were childless. 
 The tongue of Blaine's son has lost its father's cunning. 
 The son of Henr}' Clay breeds horses in Kentucky, and 
 Lord Beaconsfield's titles and estate descended to a nephew. 
 Robert E. Lee was born of a family in which the military 
 element was not phenomenal. But they possessed a military 
 character; it was a part of the family's natural material. 
 The plant that had grown so steadily in the Lee soil for ten 
 centuries, in this latter son grew by the rootlets of so many 
 generations to a wonderful perfection. Lancelot Lee, qi 
 Louder, accompanied William the Conqueror to England. 
 After Harold's golden head and brave standard had sunk 
 forever at Hastings, Lancelot was rewarded for his services 
 by an estate in Essex. From that memorable date the name 
 of Lee occurs continually in English annals, and always in 
 honorable military connection. Lionel Lee fought at Coeur 
 de Leon's side in Palestine, and who for his gallantry at 
 Acre, and iii other battles, was knighted, and civic and 
 militar}' honors were showered upon him. 
 
 Then comes Richard Lee, the period of the unfortunate 
 Surrey and his ally during the " woeful expedition " across 
 the Tweed, into Scotland. About the same time two other 
 Lees so distinguished themselves as to have their banners 
 suspended in St. George's Chapel, Windsor, with the Lee 
 
fflEM. 
 
 a.KE 
 
ROBERT E. LEE 5H 
 
 coat of arms emblazoned thereon. Coming down to the 
 times of the first Charles, we find the Lees in Shropshire, 
 all stanch cavaliers. Then it was that the accomplished 
 Richard Lee determined to remove to the new world. " He 
 was," says Bishop Meade, " a man of good stature, comely 
 visage, enterprising genius, sound head, vigorous spirit and 
 most generous nature. His son, Henry, married in the 
 colonies, whose son also married and became the father of 
 the celebrated cavalry leader of the Revolution, popularly 
 known as " Light Horse Harry." Robert E. Lee was the 
 son of this dashing revolutionary soldier, and "before 
 Robert's renown " the fame of the lamil}- line grows dim, 
 comparativel}', and feeble. When Robert was four years 
 of age, his father removed to Alexandria, the better to edu- 
 cate his children. Colonel Lee was possessed of a fine estate, 
 which enabled him to gratify his high purposes concerning 
 his children. Ha\ing received all the educational advan- 
 tages aflbrded within the colonies, he was determined that 
 his children should keep pace with the rapidly developing 
 country, and early made arrangements that his possible 
 death should not interfere with their college privileges. 
 Education is so universal in the cities that its possession is 
 not considered; it is only its absence that is commented on. 
 In the country districts the lack of an education is not 
 regarded, but its possession is viewed with great regard. In 
 the early days of the government an educated man was 
 looked upon with great favor. It clothed him with the 
 mantle of aristocracy. The people had not 3'et got far 
 enough away from England to lose sight of castes and orders. 
 An aristocracy of education is the only aristocracy Amer- 
 ica ever needs. Not that education which is furnished only 
 by the college curriculum, but the education which informs 
 
512 THE GENIUS OF INDUSTBT. 
 
 and develops the whole man, which is obtained by the dili- 
 gent and painstaking student out of the school, as well as in 
 it, that education which is a storehouse of knowledge of the 
 world, and a mastery of all those systems which touch along 
 the path of one's life calling. Not only the education of 
 Edward Everett, and Charles Sumner, and Justice Story, but 
 that of Clay, Lincoln and Douglas. The childhood of Rob- 
 ert was remarkable for modesty and thoughtful ness of char- 
 acter, and for the performance of ever}' duty which devohed 
 upon him. When eleven years of age, his father died. From 
 his childhood he had been prepared for this event. Holding 
 . his father in a deep and reverent love, and always under the 
 shadow of his expected death, had solemnized and rendered 
 more grave his already serious and religious nature. As 
 Lord Macaulay when an urchin, was given to statel}' phrases 
 of speech that would astonish a Scotch professor, so Lee, 
 when a lad, exhibited such probity and dignified bearing, and 
 was so profound in his ways, he was a source of wonder and 
 amusement to the family visitors. His mother was a great 
 invalid; with the elder children away at school, Robert 
 became the house keeper, carried the keys, attended to the 
 marketing, managed all of the out-door business, and took 
 care of his mother's horses. At the hour when other school- 
 boys went to play, he hurried home to order his mother's 
 drive, and would there be seen half carrying her, and arrang- 
 ins; her cushions with all the gentleness of an experienced 
 nurse. He always made a labored effort to amuse his mother 
 on these drives, assuring her, with the gravit}' of an old man, 
 that unless she was cheerful the drive would not benefit her. 
 When he left her to go to West Point, his mother said, '' How 
 can I live without Robert? He is both son and daughter to 
 me." 
 
ROBERT E. LEE. 513 
 
 Years after, when he came home from West Point, he 
 found one of the chief actors of his childhood's drama — his 
 mother's old coachman, " Nat," ill, and threatened with con- 
 sumption. He immediately took him to the milder climate 
 of Georgia, nursed him with the tenderness of a son. and 
 secured him the best medical advice. But the spring saw 
 the faithful old servant laid in the grave by the hands of his 
 kind young master. 
 
 He did not often indulge in the sports of youth. He was 
 out among the students at intermission, but he seldom 
 engaged in the games which occupy those hours. He enjoyed 
 hunting, and for this, oftener than any other cause, would 
 leave his charges at home, and spend a day in the woods. 
 With his gun and dog he would tramp for miles over the 
 country, and but few of the old marksmen brought home 
 more game at night. At that day Virginia abounded in 
 game, and at the proper season each week furnished a troop 
 of deer hunters from his neighborhood, but their trip was usu- 
 ally turned into a carousal where liquor and profanity flowed 
 freely, and Robert after one hunt refused to join their com- 
 panies longer. His teacher, during the first years of school 
 life at Alexandria, was W. B. Lear}', an Irish gentleman. 
 A warm friendship sprang up between teacher and pupil, 
 which continued to the close of their lives. At this school he 
 acquired a knowledge of the classics and a fondness for them,' 
 ■which he always retained. 
 
 De Quincey astounded his teachers at sixteen with his pro- 
 found knowledge of the classics, one professor declaring he 
 could address an Athenian mob. Coleridge had a like apt- 
 ness, and while the life he pursued afforded little opportunity 
 for the use of their knowledge, \Q.t both these scholars main- 
 tained their stud}' to the last for mere love of it. When it 
 
514 THE GEXIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 was decided that Robert should go to West Point, it became 
 necessary to make him more proficient in mathematics. He 
 was accordingly sent to school to pursue mathematics alone, 
 but it was a great task for him to turn his attention to that 
 which it seemed he had no natural taste for. 
 
 In time he developed as great a liking for mathematics as 
 he had had for the classics. A student's mind often pre- 
 sents a tendency towards all the callings, and which ever one 
 it first seizes upon, will develop such a proficiency in it, that 
 they are judged unsuited for any other line of work. It fre- 
 quently occurs that, tried in another direction the powers 
 respond as generously to its demands. There are few 
 DeVincis, however, and if a broad and active current is 
 found in the nature, to carry . on the commerce of any par- 
 ticular line of business, it is safe to let it alone. 
 
 Entering West Point at the age of eighteen, he rapidly 
 rose to a position of prominence in his class, although he 
 refused to join in any of the sports of a questionable char- 
 acter, for which that military academy is so famous. He 
 won and retained the esteem of the cadets and officers, and 
 at the end of lour }-cars graduated without having received 
 a demerit in his entire course, and second in an unusually 
 brilliant class. The esteem of companions is not always 
 won by yielding to their wishes and joining in their works. 
 A spirit of independence and self-reliance seldom fails of 
 recognition in such cases. To go witlk the crowd because 
 one wants to do so is to make oneself part of the company, 
 but to go with them because of the opposition a refusal 
 would create is to fawn before an opposition. This ne\-er 
 brings respect, and is unable to make companionship. Young 
 men are furnished with the intentions of manhood that de- 
 cides whether companions are " boon " or whether they are 
 
ROBERT E. LEE. 515 
 
 SO from other motives; and nowhere is the true spirit and 
 pkick of life so quickly recognized as among young men. 
 The dignity of character maintained b}' the one when he 
 first begins to walk on the pa'ths of man's estate is an index 
 to the future life. A course that is consistent and manly, and 
 refuses to be challenged, will obtain respect, although it ma}^ 
 not be popular for the moment. The world likes individ- 
 uality; it detests a sycophant. The students laughed at 
 Calhoun the first year he was at college, but the following 
 year they admired him. At first the cadets thought young 
 Lee sentimental and prudish. They soon learned he was 
 neither. They saw in the end that he refused to join them 
 because he found no pleasure in their sports, but that he was 
 an admirable companion and a good student. Ralph Waldo 
 Emerson was almost without a companion at school; his 
 nature was so difterent from those about him that he could 
 find no pleasure where there was no affinity, yet every boy 
 in college was his friend. Carlyle was the same kind of a 
 recluse; because of his peculiar temperament, with the few- 
 est associates, he was the most universally respected of 
 any student at the universit}'. There are men who go 
 through life without a confidant, and are seldom e\-er known 
 to associate with others, who have more friends and admir- 
 ers than any man in their community. 
 
 Lee graduated second in his class. This distinction was 
 not gained without a severe struggle. He stands forth at 
 the end of his school career the unusual spe'ctacle of a young 
 man to whom high family connections and great wealth had 
 not proven a serious detriment. It seeins to be easier to 
 rise in the world without advantageous surroundings than 
 with them. A competency in wealth and a secured social 
 position burden resolution and weight the energies. It is the 
 
51() THE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 widow's son, the penniless lad, whose deft strokes carve him 
 a place in the niche among the great. Adverse circum- 
 stances have discovered greatness in men, as in Nelson, 
 that a shower of fortune would have hid forever. Alexan- 
 der H. Stephens — the news of whose death is filling the 
 land as these lines are being penned — toiling on the adverse 
 side of life, afibrds a strange contrast to Lee. That their 
 lives should till so large a space in their countr3-'s histor\-, 
 and be so closely identified in their labors in behalf of the 
 South, living to a ripe old age, respected by the great com- 
 monwealth of the land, and their earh' years ha\e been at so 
 strange a variance is a coincidence, and an additional 
 illustration of the triumphs of a determined purpose over 
 outrageous fate, or the letharg}/ of position and plenty. The 
 career of Mr. Stephens has been the most remarkable of any 
 man in this country' ; it is an interesting and distinguished 
 one. Perhaps no public man in the country ever surmounted 
 greater difficulties, and in the end was crowned with such 
 success. His family was not of high social origin: he worked 
 on a plantation and had meager schooling. His parents left 
 him a penniless lad, and charity finally opened the way for 
 him to attend the university, but when he graduated, he 
 taught school until he had earned enough to repay the 
 money he had borrowed. Many great men have arri\ed at 
 eminence through poverty, but few have had disease added. 
 He was a sickly boy, morbidly sensitive, and of melancholy 
 disposition, and was all through life racked with painful dis- 
 ease. He was admitted to the bar when only twenty-two 
 years of age, and he weighed eighty-five pounds. He was 
 offered a favorable partnership, but his love for home 
 anchored him to the spot of his boyhood. He opened his 
 office and kept a scrupulous account of his expenses — which 
 
ROBERT E. LEE. 517 
 
 always reveals to one points wherein they can be econom- 
 ical — and the first year lived on six dollars a month ; that 
 year he did four hundred dollars worth of business. When 
 he first started in the practice of law at Crawfordville, he 
 passed every morning a shoe factory, and as he was walking 
 by, one of three negroes asked, " Who is that little fellow that 
 walks by here so fast of mornings?" "Why, man, that's a 
 lawyer." The third negro shouted aloud with a genuine 
 negro guffaw: "A lawyer! that's good!" In less than six 
 months Stephens saved that negro, who had mirrored popu- 
 lar opinion of the struggling bo}', from the penitentiary, by 
 picking a flaw in the indictment. 
 
 There were no railroads in those da3s in Georgia, and 
 wanting to go to Washington Court House and attend the 
 session of court in that county, in a style befitting his pro- 
 fession, he found himself without the means to hire a 
 conveyance, and being too proud to borrow, he walked ten 
 miles to his uncle's, where he obtained the loan of a horse. 
 His change of clothing consisted, in part, of a pair of thin 
 white cotton pants of cheap material, and just before he 
 entered the town he halted his horse under a tree, and, 
 changing his clothes, entered town in style. 
 
 The second year in the practice he was prostrated by 
 sickness. In the following year he was again confined to 
 his bed by sickness for months, and never after knew a well 
 day. 
 
 For several years he was a member of the Georgia 
 Legislature, where he won a fame that extended all over 
 the State, as a logical and shrewd debater and orator of 
 great power. He was eventually sent to Congress, where 
 his addresses alwaj's commanded the closest attention. His 
 points were made rapidly and apparently without efibrt. 
 
618 THE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 The midnight oil never flashed forth its sickl}' glare in his 
 eloquent passages. He gradually unfolded his subject like 
 the leaves of a book. He was feared as an antagonist and 
 sought for as an ally in debate. He was compared to Ran- 
 dolph, of Roanoke. Both were morbidly sensitive. Both 
 were fearless in debate and action. Randolph fought duels; 
 Stephens challenged Herschel V. Johnson and General B. H. 
 Hill, yet both refused to fight him. Both were powerful in 
 Congress; both diseased. Yet Randolph was C3'nical and 
 misanthropic, all gall and wormwood, embittered perhaps 
 by suffering and disease. Yet Stephens conquered his pains, 
 and was as modest as a school girl and as amiable and 
 genial as the most bountifull}' blessed person could be. He 
 had wished to die in the harness. Elected Governor of 
 Georgia, at the age of se\"enty-one, with a life that had been 
 bandaged in disease, he had gloriously triumphed and died 
 with the harness on. 
 
 Lee's early 3'ears were blessed with perfect health, his 
 social position was of the best, and his lamil}^ was possessed 
 of an ample fortune. He neither knew a pain nor a strug- 
 
 That these two youths, whose early lives were so dis- 
 similar, should afterwards meet in the arena of national 
 afTairs, each the head of a great interest, exhibits the 
 possibilities in American institutions, and the toil of their 
 lives shows the feebleness of famil}', and the lightness of 
 adversity, to make or mar a life. If the body contain the 
 purpose of determined effort the triumph will come. If it is 
 not contained hinderance and help are alike futile; the life is 
 a failure. 
 
 When a boy Robert Lee was accustomed to visit Arling- 
 ton, the estate of George Washington Parke Custis, (the 
 
ROLSERT E. LEE. 519 
 
 adopted son of the Father of his Country) and there had as 
 his playmate Mary Randolph Custis. Their childish friend- 
 ship, when mature jears had come, ripened into love, and 
 on June 30th, 1831, he led her to the altar of marriage. 
 Arlington passed into the possession of the young lieuten- 
 ant's wife, and henceforth became their home. Little time 
 could be spared from the active duties of his soldier life, but 
 every day a furlough could be granted he spent at home. 
 The deep and earnest nature of Lee was well fitted to a 
 home life. He adored his wife and children. The letters 
 he wrote them when away at his post of duty breathed the 
 love of a fond and devoted heart. 
 
 The sobriety of his life was nev^er known to yield to a 
 passion. Under the most vexatious trials, when his officers 
 and men were turbulent with anger, he was as serene and 
 unruffled as a sleeping infant. Cromwell can not be com- 
 pared to him in this regard, for the Protector's " awful 
 serenity " had a rigidness about it that aroused passion in 
 others. Lee's placidity moved every one to his state of 
 mind. The center of Lincoln's character was morality. 
 The center of Lee's was religion. The moral moved 
 through and colored everything with which Lincoln had to 
 do. The religious fervency of Lee was visible in every- 
 thing he did. Lincoln was not a church member, and was 
 often pronounced a free thinker. Lee was a regular com- 
 municant at church, and his letters, addresses and private 
 conversations abounded in reverent allusions to Almighty 
 God, and the complete surrender of his life to the Divine 
 guidance. 
 
 The great military chieftains, as a rule, have not been 
 professors of religion. A minority have been enrolled as 
 church members, but a great captain who was a devout 
 
520 TUB GENIUS OF IXDUsTRY. 
 
 Christian, is seldom found in military annals. INIahomet was 
 a religious enthusiast, and fired his soldiers with all his holy 
 frenzy. The tanatieal zeal whieh glowed in their breasts 
 led his followers to attacks, and, in the terrific abandon of 
 their onslaughts, to victories that the tactics of war could 
 never ha\e gained. A religious fervor, transferred by the 
 leader to his troops, becomes a strength that makes an army 
 well nigh invincible. The crusades would have been noth- 
 ing without religious passion. Peter the Hermit set the 
 flame of his quenchless spirit in the mind of ever^' crusader, 
 and for two hundred j^ears it was handed down to successive 
 generations, and its mighty fury did not die until twenty 
 millions of the flower of Europe had by it been led to their 
 death. The aroused energies of the Cromwellian patriots, 
 through whose \eins flowed love to God, and duty to the 
 country by the church, restored peace to their land. 
 
 Religion is the largest energy that can fill a life. No 
 thought can be conceived of that has been of so much bene- 
 fit to the world, as the one that man is responsible to an 
 Eternal IVIaster. The work of all the artists, the teaching- 
 of all the scholars, the eloquence of all the orators, has not 
 done the world so much good as this one conception. The 
 majority of mankind are not privileged to pass the college 
 halls, but few men can ever escape the idea that the}^ came 
 from the hands of a just judge, and to Him they must return 
 again. 
 
 When cities have been paralyzed by luxury and vicious- 
 ness; when the thrones of royalty, the centers of govern- 
 ment, have been i-otten with crime, and drunken with 
 revelry, until the scepter of control was wasted, and the 
 State was dissoh'ing in anarchy, the people, who were back 
 from the glare of the Court, students of their Bibles and 
 
ROBERT E. LEE. 521 
 
 steadfast in their divine faith, have moved up to the foun- 
 tains of corrupted government, and filled them with the fresh 
 blood' of a pure life. Their religious zeal redeemed the 
 nation ; thus it was that the sturdy churchmen saved Eng- 
 land, and thus it was that the peasantry reclaimed France. 
 On the evening of Oct. 13, 1066, the Normans* and the 
 Anglo-Saxons encamped near Hastings. The Saxons 
 turned to their tents at their usual hour, but the Normans 
 • were ordered to their quarters earl}' for the special ser\'ice 
 that would be held on the morrow. At an early hour they 
 were astir, and the army of 60,000 men attended divine 
 worship before breakfast. William demanded that the 
 soldiers as one man commit the issue of the contest to their 
 God. By nine o'clock the battle was joined. When dusk 
 came the Saxons were in flight and the Norman was con- 
 queror. Their patriotism failed when Harold fell pierced 
 by an arrow, but the Norman faith was unshaken to the 
 last, although 15,000 of their men went down. " The subju- 
 gation of a nation by a nation," said Macaulay, speaking of 
 the consequences of the battle, " has seldom, even in Asia, 
 been more complete." The religious confidence with which 
 Stonewall Jackson always went into battle gave an assur- 
 ance to his men that no other conviction on the part of their 
 great leader could have given them. The feeling of right, 
 and that the unseen power of the air is marshaled on their 
 side, gives courage to fear and makes weak battalions strong. 
 The man who enters any contest sustained by an unfalter- 
 ing trust in his God is stronger than he would be under an}- 
 other circumstances. His ideas may not be clearly defined 
 as to how assistance will be rendered him. Yet he has the 
 faith that " all things will work together for good to them 
 that serve Him." Souls that have held this faith have 
 
622 THE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 dared perilous undertakings, and wrought achievements, that 
 seemed higher than human hands. The sublime faith of 
 Joan of Arc tired the French soldiery with a heroism that 
 their militar}- leaders were unable to give them. The child- 
 like and trusting confidence of Lee in the divine care was 
 the mark of his life. His whole career moved under the 
 guidance of a reverent faith. He was not a religious enthu- 
 siast, not a canting professor. His character was pure, and 
 his nature was profoundly religious. No one e\'er rendered' 
 him a service, however humble, that was not instantl}' and 
 gratefully acknowledged, however lowly the person might 
 be. His doctrine and his life give lucid proof that he was 
 honest in Whatever cause he espoused. 
 
 The marriage of Lee to INIiss Custis proved a happy 
 union. She was a woman worth}' to grace the home and 
 cheer the eventful life of one of the foremost men of his day. 
 The early years of their married life was crowned with all the 
 felicity of a loving home. In after years Mrs. Lee was ren- 
 dered by sickness incapable of walking, and was never free 
 from pain, but in the midst of her sufferings she seemed con- 
 tented and happy. Domestic in her tastes and habits and of 
 unconquerable industry, she was constantly engaged in some 
 order of work, and was a liberal contributor to any charity 
 that presented itself Noted for her sound judgment — thor- 
 oughly educated and accomplished — well read in general lit- 
 erature — a fine conversationalist and a genial entertainer, she 
 was a Virginia matron of the old school, and worthy to link 
 together the illustrious families of Washington and Lee. On 
 his graduation at West Point, Lee was appointed Brevet- 
 Second Lieutenant. Six years afterward he was made First 
 Lieutenant, and two 3'ears later was created Captain of Engi- 
 neers. When the Mexican war broke out, he was assigned 
 
ROBERT E. LEE. 523 
 
 to the central army in iNIexico as Chief Engineer. General 
 Scott, quick to detect military genius, at an earl}- da}- selected 
 him to be one of his personal stall". Concerning his services 
 at Vera Cruz, General Scott says, " I am compelled to make 
 special mention of Captain R. E. Lee, Engineer. This 
 officer greatly distinguished himself at the siege of Vera 
 Cruz." Again at Cerro Gordo, his general makes special 
 mention of his sagacity in planting batteries, and in con- 
 ducting columns to their stations, under the heavy fire of 
 the enemy. After this battle he was brevetted a Major. 
 Later he was made Lieutenant-Colonel for gallant and mer- 
 itorious conduct. For his services at Chapultepec, he was 
 made, in 1852, Superintendent of the West Point Academy. 
 General Scott conceived a warm personal friendship for the 
 young engineer, and a high admiration for his military skill. 
 The Commander-in-Chief sent hardly a single dispatch to 
 Washington City in which his name was not honorably men- 
 tioned. Years after, when alluding to Johnston's promotion 
 ahead of Lee, he said, " Lee is the greatest military genius 
 in America." At another time, he said, " I tell you that if 
 I were on my death-bed to-morrow, and the President of the 
 United States should tell me that a great battle was to be 
 fought for the liberty or slavery of the country, and asked 
 my judgment as to the ability of a commander, I would say 
 with my dying breath, let it be Robert E. Lee." 
 
 When John Brown made his raid on the United States 
 armory at Harper's Ferry, which was the prelude to the 
 great struggle so soon to open upon the country. Colonel 
 Lee was ordered to arrest the insurgents and put down the 
 rebellion. He accordingly moved with his men to the field 
 of mimic rebellion; after a futile parley, and a refusal of sur- 
 render he opened fire on the engine house, where the insur- 
 
524 THE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 gents had barricaded themselves, and after the kiUing of sev- 
 eral of the inmates and the wounding of Browrn, the building 
 was assaulted and captured, and the prisoners were delivered 
 to the government for trial. In the early part of 1 86 1, Colonel 
 Lee rejoined his regiment in Texas. The political excite- 
 ment attending the Presidential election of i860 was unpre- 
 cedented in national history. Contrar}^ to the rules of heated 
 political campaigns, the election of Mr. Lincoln was suc- 
 ceeded by greater unrest in the public mind than had been 
 manifested previously. The gravest apprehensions were 
 realized in the opening of 1861, when the excitement in the 
 South culminated in the withdrawal of several of the Southern 
 States from the Union. They formed a confederacy com- 
 posed exclusively of slave-holding states, under the title of 
 the "Confederate States of America." Closely interwoven 
 in the structure of the Union was a fatal weakness in the 
 principles of "States rights." The Fathers, in the funda- 
 mental articles of government, had failed to clearly and 
 undisputably declare that, these States were not bound into 
 the " Union " by a mere compact. The delicacy of the con- 
 flicting interests, vested at that supreme moment, made it a 
 feat of statesmanship to confederate these colonies under one 
 constitution. They were unable to declare that these States 
 were States only for the convenience of local government, 
 and that they in realit}' composed a " unity," and were a 
 Nation. They bound the States together and rested there, 
 reserving for a later age the definite interpretation of the 
 character of their union. The commonwealth of Virginia 
 had clung to the Union, but seeing the others go, she also 
 passed the ordinance of secession and united her destin}- with 
 that of her Southern sisters. 
 
 Colonel Lee, with his regiment in Texas, anxiously 
 
ROBERT E. LEE. 525 
 
 watched the course of his State, hoping peace would be 
 preserved and she would remain in the Union. When he 
 saw his hope was vain, he was placed where he must decide 
 between the general government and his State. He had 
 been reared in a slave State. The principles of the great 
 statesmen of the South were his principles. He was no 
 Southern lire-eater, and was a stranger to sectional preju- 
 dice. He believed that the first duty of a patriot was to 
 his State. His conviction of government was " State 
 rights." Every feeling of selfishness and ambition bid him 
 remain with the Union army. For twenty-ti\-e years he 
 had served with credit and distinction in that army. In the 
 opinion of the army he held the second position in point of 
 merit, and was regarded as the most fitting successor to the 
 veteran Lieutenant-General, to whom he was bound by the 
 strongest ties of love and esteem. Honor and military dis- 
 tinction awaited hirp. General Scott implored him to 
 remain, and the President of the United States offered him 
 the command of the Union armies. If he went with his 
 State he would have trials, suffering ; he would descend from 
 wealth to poverty, and be a proclaimed traitor. It was a 
 terrible struggle. Had his convictions bisen less of duty to 
 his State ambition would have triumphed. Mrs. Lee said, 
 in December, 1861, " My husband has wept tears of blood 
 over this terrible war, but he must share the destiny of his 
 State." 
 
 The action of Virginia put an end to his struggles r>nd 
 left him no alternative. AVhen Secretary Blair offered him 
 the command of the Union army, he said, " Mr. Blair, I 
 look upon secession as anarchy. If I owned four millions of 
 slaves in the South I would sacrifice them all to the Union; 
 but how can I draw my sword upon Virginia, my native 
 
526 - THE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 State? " To his sister, tlie wife of a Union officer, he 
 wrote: "* * * The whole South is in a state of revolu- 
 tion, into which Virginia, after a long struggle, has been 
 drawn; and though I recognize no necessity for this state of 
 things, and would have forborne and pleaded to the end for 
 redress of grievances, real or supposed, yet in my own per- 
 son I had to meet the question whether I should take part 
 against my native State. With all my devotion to the 
 Union, and the feeling of loyalty and duty of an American 
 citizen, I have not been able to make up my mind to raise 
 my hand against my relations, my children, my home. I 
 have, therefore, resigned my commission in the army, and 
 save in defense of my native .State, with the sincere hope 
 that my poor ser\ices may never be needed, I hope I may 
 never be called upon to draw my sword." 
 
 Colonel Lee's resignation was accepted on the 20th of 
 April, and he at once repaired to Richmond, leaving behind 
 him his splendid home, which was to be his no longer, and 
 which he should never see again. Three da3's later the 
 Governor of Virginia conferred upon him the rank of Major 
 General of the forces of that State. After the establishment 
 of the Confederacy, with its Congress at Richmond, Presi- 
 dent Davis appointed him a General in the Confederate 
 arm}', Cooper and Sydney Johnston outranking him. Being 
 ranked thus he bore no active part in the first operations 
 of the war. 
 
 In June, 1862, General Johnston was disabled in the 
 battle of Seven Pines, and General Lee was assigned to the 
 vacant command. He found the Confederate capital 
 beleaguered by an army of one hundred thousand men, 
 while his own force was little more than half that number. 
 He conceived the idea of relieving the beseiged cit}' by 
 
ROBERT E. LEE. 527 
 
 one of those bold strategic movements which mark the 
 mihtar}' chieftain from the mere professor of arms. He 
 directed General Jackson tlirough a Hne of rapid movements 
 in the valley, which prevented forty thousand men, under 
 McDowell, from uniting with the beseiging arm}'. A part 
 of Fremont's force was hurried on to unite with McDowell 
 in crushing Jackson. It was evident the latter could not 
 long stand against the arm}' that was massing before him; 
 yet, to detach enough battalions from the defenders of 
 Richmond to save Jackson would so weaken that point that 
 the Capital would fall. Lee therefore decided that Jackson 
 must be lifted out of the enemy's clutches in the valley and 
 unite with him, and drive the beseiging army from before 
 Richmond. Three brigades were accordingly hurled into 
 the valley, apparently to assist Jackson, whose feints had 
 thus far kept McDowell and Fremont from uniting. He 
 gave battle to each force in succession, and had driven them 
 back ; and under apprehension that reinforced he was moving 
 on to Washington, they moved down the valley in order to 
 cover that city. Leaving all of his cavalry to watch the 
 enemy and mask his own movements, Jackson hurried 
 toward the endangered Capital. 
 
 Less than four weeks after Lee had assumed command of 
 the army his attacking columns swung around McClellan's 
 right flank and fell like an avalanche on the besieging army. 
 Next day Jackson was up, and then ensued the succession 
 of brilliant engagements which produced McClellan's famous 
 " change of base," and sent his shattered army to Harrison's 
 Landing, under cover of the gunboats on the James. 
 
 McClellan had under his command on the Potomac, and 
 within reach of Richmond, one hundred and ninety-three 
 thousand men. Lee's combined forces not did reach ninety 
 
528 THE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 thousand men. The idea of relieving Richmond by an 
 attack on McClellan's flank and rear was a masterly concep- 
 tion; but its boldness appears when, sweeping around the 
 enemy's flank, Lee left little over twenty-five thousand men 
 between the city and the besieging army. It was the per- 
 fection of profound and daring strategy. Had McClellan 
 advanced to the assault of the city, through the open plains 
 around it, his destruction would have been insured. As it 
 was, his only chance for escape was in a retreat through the 
 swamps and forests, which concealed and sheltered his 
 columns on their flight. Had the plans of Lee been faith- 
 fully and rigidl}' carried out b}' his subordinates, McClellan's 
 army would have been annihilated. The campaign from 
 Richmond to Fredericksburg manifested the generosity of 
 his nature, in the arrangements for his own personal com- 
 fort. Wellington always moved before his soldiers with a 
 prince like exclusiveness, and his headquarters were as regal 
 and unapproachable as the queen's at Windsor Castle. So 
 Marlborough, in the face of the most exhausting hardships, 
 and painful absence of comforts toV his men, compelled the 
 trains to bring up the loads of furniture and provisions for 
 his quarters. No French general has ever been known to 
 recognize the comfortless condition of his army, or blush to 
 establish himself in regal luxury in the midst of their tat- 
 tered tents and scant}' stores. General Lee was touched by 
 every trial of his soldiers, and felt every pang of their hun- 
 ger. Never before knowing the lack of perfect comfort, 
 he consigned himself to the soldier's fare and bed, and could 
 not be persuaded in that long campaign to quit his quarters 
 in the field. His staff" caught his spirit, and slept under tent- 
 flies, that the entire army might be one in privations. An 
 English nobleman, visiting the winter quarters, was struck 
 
ROBERT E. LEE. 529 
 
 with the cliaracter of the headquarters of the General, in 
 comparison with the pomp and circumstance of war which 
 surrounded the encamped armies on European fields. Lee's 
 headquarters consisted of seven pole tents, pitched with their 
 backs to the fence, upon a piece of ground so rocky it was 
 unpleasant to ride over it, its only recommendation being a 
 stream of good, cold water which flowed close by the Gen- 
 eral's tent. The couriers were not provided with tents, and 
 slept in some wagons that stood near. No guards or sen- 
 tries were to be seen in the vicinit}"; no crowd of aids-de- 
 camp loitering about, endeavoring to save their generals 
 from receiving those who have no particular business. A 
 large farm house stood near b}', which, with any other 
 army, would have been the General's residence. " Every 
 one, however, who approaches him does so with respect. 
 There is no bowing and flourishing of forage caps as in the 
 presence of European generals. All honor him, and place 
 implicit faith in his courage and ability, but this life reveals 
 the man; to accepted abilities it adds intimate affections 
 which exist between the sons and the father." Old General 
 Scott was correct in saying that when Lee joined the South- 
 ern cause it was worth as much as the accession of twenty 
 thousand men to the " rebels." 
 
 The Christianity of Lee's nature placed him above jeal- 
 ous}'. The intrigues of commanders to thwart any accom- 
 plishment on the part of other commanders is as old as 
 war. Armies have as often been o\-erthrown b}' a quiet 
 refusal to co-operate with some brilliant movement of a 
 brother officer as by the superior power of the enemy. 
 Stonewall Jackson was a general of whom Lee would have 
 been fearful of his popularity if of any man in the army. 
 More than once had he thrown himself into the ranks of his 
 
530 THE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 troops, when defeat seemed certain, and by the enthusiasm 
 of his presence had turned the tide of defeat into victory. 
 When he fell at Chancellorsville his men were panic-stricken 
 and wept like children; then their grief was turned to fury 
 and they fought like demons. When a messenger at four 
 o'clock in the morning reached headquarters with the tid- 
 ings of Jackson's wounds, he found Lee on a bed of straw. 
 He sprang up and read the message and exclaimed, " God 
 be praised, he is still alive." Then he added, "Any victory 
 is a dear one which deprives us of the service of Jackson, 
 even for a short time." The officer remarked that he 
 believed it was General Jackson's intention to have pressed 
 the enemy on the coming day, had he been spared. General 
 Lee said quietly, " These people shall be pressed to-day." 
 Dressing, he partook of his simple meal of ham and crack- 
 ers, and prepared to set out for the field. Later in the da}' 
 he sent to General Jackson the following letter: 
 
 "General: — I have just received your note, informing 
 me that you were wounded. I cannot express ni}- regret at 
 the occurence. Could I have directed events, I should have 
 chosen, for the good of the country, to have been disabled 
 in your stead. I congratulate you upon j-our victory, which 
 is due to your skill and energ}-." 
 
 The affectionate admiration with which the great com- 
 mander of the South regarded Jackson was fully recipro- 
 cated by the latter. He pronounced Lee a phenomenon, and 
 that he was the only man whom he would follow blind- 
 fold. Each was worthy of the gallant friendship of the 
 other. Lee hurried to the front, taking personal direction 
 of the army, and gave orders to storm the Federal works 
 at Chancellorsville. The whole line advanced, and after a 
 stubborn fight, captured the works. The Union forces ral- 
 
ROBERT E. LEE. 531 
 
 lied and the Confederates were driven back. A second time 
 the works were won and lost, and a third attempt met the 
 same fate. The confederate infantry swept forward in their 
 fourth charge, over the dead and dying, into the captured 
 works, driving the Union forces furiously towards the river, 
 and at ten o'clock Lee's flag of victory waved over Chan- 
 cellorsville. In the whirl and smoke and carnage of four 
 successive charges and three successive defeats, he had 
 " pressed the enemy " and sealed with a signal triumph the 
 plans of his wounded subordinate. Lee was developing 
 himself to be a master in all the arts of war. He had won 
 the attention of Scott, in Mexico, first by the perfection of 
 his engineering skill. He then attracted that great tacti- 
 cian's generous favor in the councils by the strategy of his 
 movements of the troops and lines of attack in giving battle. 
 Now, as commander-in-chief of an army, he planned 
 campaigns, and operated distant divisions of his forces with 
 an equal facilit)'. When Jackson falls and the desperate, 
 close-handed fight of charges is required, he moves on to the 
 field, takes direct control, and leads his battalions amid the 
 roar of cannon and the death of thousands, to the ramparts 
 of victory. The Corsican and Carthagenian are the only 
 chieftains that are his equal in all the varied requirements of 
 war. They alone are his peers in executing strategic move- 
 ments in the face of the enemy and wresting victories from 
 vastly superior forces. Rank has no necessary connection 
 with the genuine qualities of manhood. They are free from 
 riches and position; these qualities are present or absent in 
 the man, and not in the place. Wealth, power and position 
 are in some measure the accidents of time, but the metal of 
 manhood may be held in the breast, covered by a " warmas," 
 as well as in the one shielded by a velvet vest. 
 
532 THE GESIUS OF INDUSTMT. 
 
 Pure sympathies ma}' be found in a warrior's breast as 
 well as in the prayers of a priest. It was a dying chief who, 
 learning his head was pillowed on a private soldier's blanket, 
 ordered "his blanket be taken to him this night, forthwith." 
 When the Adige had overflowed, and the bridge of Verona 
 w^as carried awa}', except the central arch, on which stood a 
 house, whose inhabitants supplicated help from the windows, 
 while the foundations were visibl}' giving wa}', Count Spol- 
 verini said, '' I will gi^•e a hundred French louis to any 
 person, who will venture to deli\er these unfortunate 
 people." A young peasant came from the crowd, seized a 
 boat and pushed into the stream. He gained the pier, 
 received the whole famil}' into the boat, and made for the 
 shore, where he landed them in safet}'. " Here is your 
 money," said the Count. " No," was the answer of the 
 young man, " I do not sell my life; give the money to this 
 poor family, who have need of it." A case is related b3'Mr. 
 Smiles of a sudden storm at Downs, which, setting from the 
 north-east, drove several ships from their anchors, and, it 
 being low water, one of them struck the ground at a con- 
 siderable distance from the shore, where the sea made a 
 clean break over her. There was not a vestige of hope for 
 the vessel, such was the fiuy of the winds and violence of 
 the waves. There was nothing to tempt the boatmen on 
 shore to risk their lives in saving either ship or crew, for not 
 a farthing of salvage was to be looked for. But no sooner 
 had the brig grounded, than Simon Pritchard, one of the 
 many persons on the beach, threw off his coat and called 
 out, " Who will come with me and try to save that crew.'' " 
 Instantly twenty men sprang forward. Only seven could 
 go, and running down a galley-punt into the surf, they 
 leaped in and dashed through the breakers, amidst the cheers 
 
ROBERT E. LEE. 533 
 
 of those on shore. How the boat lived in sucli a sea seemed 
 a miracle; but in a few minutes, impelled by the strong 
 arms of these gallant men, she flew on and reached the 
 stranded ship, " catching her on top of a wave " and in less 
 than a quarter of an hour from the time the boat left the 
 shore, the six men who composed the crew of the collier 
 were landed safe on Walmer Beach. 
 
 There are some men who are bound to succeed in life. 
 They ha\-e planted their feet on the rounds of the ladder, and 
 they must mount or die. When a man has been faithful over 
 a few things, the world, like the Great King, lifts him up, 
 and makes him ruler of many things. When a young man 
 starts into the law, and shows in his cases that he is indus- 
 trious, and has some specific gifts for his calling, he must rise. 
 When a young physician exhibits accurate judgment in his 
 diagnosis of his patient's disease, and the skill to apply the 
 remedy, he must rise. When a man begins to trade, to buy 
 and sell, and shows that he has the knack of fixing values, he 
 will begin to rise into wealth. When a young soldier, detailed 
 to engineering, executes his duty well, and any new trust 
 placed on him is successfully carried out, he will rise. It has 
 often been said that some persons have a natural tendency 
 to rise and others to fail. If you put two men down in the 
 streets of Chicago with the same ability, and precisely simi- 
 lar circumstances, one of them in a short time will pass into 
 obscurity and distress, and the other w^ill become prosperous 
 and famous. It is not because fortune smiles on one and be- 
 trays the other. It is in nine cases out of ten the difference 
 in the integrity of character and persistence of industry man- 
 ifested by the two. In the long run, a vacillating or jealous 
 character will fall, while the steadfastness of purpose and fair 
 recognition of competitors, will rise. 
 
534 THE GENIUS OF INDUSTRT. 
 
 Lee had begun at the bottom round of the ladder. He had 
 executed ever}" trust with singular tidelit}' and with marked 
 ability; his promotion was an inevitable consequence. In his 
 reports the honors of a movement or campaign were always 
 divided, when they could be, and the lion's share given to his 
 associates. He had the generosity of manly honor, and never 
 deemed the rise of others as a reflection on himself A cap- 
 tain of engineers in the Mexican war, the spring of 1864, in 
 the war of the Rebellion saw him at the head of a great army, 
 and with a military fame extensive as the two continents. 
 His devotion to his calling was the ground-work of his suc- 
 cess. Michael Angelo had no more married his art than 
 Lee had wedded the art of war. He knew every fiber in 
 its organism. He was capable of personally performing 
 any part of its service, from loading a commissary wagon to 
 planning a campaign. He had a practical knowledge of all 
 its parts. The man who thus possesses a real knowledge of 
 all the departments of an}- enterprise is panoplied for its con- 
 tests, and only masterl}' odds will be able to overthrow him. 
 A young man of large fortune once decided to become an 
 engineer. The great engineering establishment which he con- 
 sidered the best for his purposes refused to receive appren- 
 tices. The would-be engineer was not to be thwarted. He 
 sought employment in the }"ard as a common workman. He 
 dressed and passed as a common workman, and was always 
 among the first to be at his post when the call sounded lor 
 the day's work. Through this means he worked himself up, 
 until his skill attracted attention, and he was engaged in the 
 higher departments. He finall}- left their house with the de- 
 sired knowledge. 
 
 Mr. Glynn, an English barrister, in an address to the mem- 
 bers of the bar, dropped some suggestive thoughts applicable 
 
ROBERT E. LEE. 535 
 
 to Other callings as well as to the law: "People may call 
 an attorney an attorney, as we call a dog a dog, but there are 
 as many kinds of the one animal as there are of the other. 
 An old solicitor in Newcastle, in a debate at the meeting of 
 the Literary and Philosophical Society of Newcastle, declared 
 that if he found a clerk of his reading a novel he would dis- 
 charge the culprit on the spot. Now can this plan of treat- 
 ment be considered as judicious.^ An attorney who knows 
 nothing but law is at a disadvantage with another who knows 
 the world. Let us, by all means, get as much of history, 
 biography, voyages and travels as we can; process of manu- 
 facture, ingenious inventions, marvelous works of man — say, 
 knowledge of places and things. 
 
 Don't let us follow the example of Sir Arthur Plazlewood, 
 a young Scotsman of old family, invented bj' Sir Walter 
 Scott, who went to the bar, but finding, in an action by a 
 tallow-chandler, that he was expected to defile his mouth 
 with filthy terms of trade, threw up his brief and quit the 
 profession in disgust. Both in potent laws and in many 
 others you will find terms of trade, of manufacturers, or of 
 seamanship, most useful knowledge. But of all useful 
 knowledge, knowledge of men, of human nature — knowledge 
 of the world, as it is called — is the most useful of all. 
 
 General Lee possessed a character that won on the confi- 
 dence of the people quite as readily as on the soldiers. He 
 never made a mistake. His movements were as exact 
 military science as Hannibal's, who has been accorded the 
 distinction of the "Perfect General." When Lee was 
 overpowered and repulsed, his very retreat seemed to 
 be a voluntary change from an old base for a better 
 position. In the hour of victory his grief over the dead and 
 
536 THE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 wounded exceeded his rejoicing in the triumph. He was a 
 man tilled with all the better qualities of humanity. 
 
 While study • and experience developed him as a scholar 
 and military chieftain the}' also brought into more promi- 
 nent view his unusual qualities of manhood. This latter 
 formed the central pivot of his character, around which his 
 splendid attainments revolved, and which added a lustre to 
 his achie\-enients worn onl}- by true heroes. 
 
 All that one does, takes on from his character, becomes 
 a reflex of himself. The work and the man can .not be 
 separated. Marlborough in his dashing exploits on the 
 field, was the Marlborough of the drawing room in another 
 arena. Suwarrow, when he visited the Prince, kicking the 
 elegant furniture out of his room, and ordering the servant 
 to bring in some straw that he could have a comfortable 
 bed, was the same stern and tireless soldier from the frozen 
 North. Frederick the Great, at Fontenoy, and aping liter- 
 ature with Voltaire, was the same Frederick. Lee, on the 
 field of battle, was to be recognized as the same Lee that 
 acted as church vestryman and college professor. 
 
 The world learns of the elements in a man on the same 
 day they hear of his accomplishments, and are filled with 
 confidence or apprehension accordingly. The citizens of the 
 Confederacy knew General Lee; his determined sacrifice for 
 his State gave them assurance that the State ought to be 
 obeyed. And while fearing for the ultimate result, with a 
 calm and religious devotion to duty, irrespective of the end, 
 he drew his sword for the South, and held thousands to 
 their allegiance and steadfast in their sacrifices for the cause. 
 
 The complete o\ erthrow of Lee, at any time, would have 
 been the ruin of the Confederate cause. The people were 
 
ROBERT E. LEE. 537 
 
 sta3-ed in him, and as his fortunes fluctuated so their hopes 
 rose and fell. 
 
 Time records tifteen decisive battles, on which the 
 destiny of empires hung, and whose issue changed the 
 histor}- of the world. What a moment was that when at 
 INIarathon, Medes and Persians, with their scimeters and 
 lunar spears, broke before the Athenians, and were driven 
 back into the marshes! Then Asia precipitated itself upon 
 Europe, and the civilization of the West was for the 
 moment trembling in the balance. 
 
 Lee had accepted the gauge of battle on a side where it 
 was not possible for one victory, or many, to be decisive of 
 the contest. One great and crushing defeat of his forces, 
 however, might have left him without an army, or the 
 resource from which to create another. The North teemed 
 with millions of men, and her reserve force in a conflict 
 with eleven States was exhaustless. 
 
 Great events frequently hang on trivial causes. Trifles 
 light as air have often sealed the fate of nations. The future 
 of Europe was in the legs of Blucher's soldiers; they 
 brought his arm}' into the field of Waterloo in time and the 
 peace of the continent was secured. The discovery of 
 America is referred to by Humboldt as " a wonderful con- 
 catenation of tri\-ial circumstances," which undeniably 
 exercised an influence on the course of the world's destin}'. 
 " These circumstances are," Washington Irving justly 
 observed, " that if Columbus had resisted the counsel of 
 Martin Alonzo Pinzon, and continued to steer westward, he 
 would have entered the Gulf Stream and been borne to 
 Florida, and from thence probably to Cape Hatteras and 
 Virginia — a circumstance of incalculable importance, since 
 it might have been the means of giving the United States of 
 
638 THE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 North America a Catholic Spanish population in the place 
 of the Protestant English by which those regions were sub- 
 sequently colonized." 
 
 '' It seems to me like an inspiration," said Pinzon to the 
 Admiral, " that my heart dictates to me that we ought to 
 steer in a different direction." It was on the strength of 
 this circumstance that, in the celebrated lawsuit which 
 Pinzon carried on against the heirs of Columbus between 
 1513 and 15 15, he maintained that the discovery of America 
 was alone due to him. This inspiration Pinzon owed, as 
 related b}' an old soldier at the same trial, to the flight of a 
 flock of parrots, which he had observed in the evening fl\- 
 ing toward the southwest, in order, as he might well have 
 conjectured, to roost on trees on the land. Never has a 
 flight of birds been attended with more important results." 
 " It has always been a question among military writers how 
 far the pause of Hannibal was compulsory — a question not 
 likely to be solved unless Pompeii yields us further literar}- 
 treasures. As far as one can decide, at such a distance of 
 time and scene, it seems all but certain that the rapid 
 advance of Hannibal on Rome after the battle of Cannae, 
 that of Henry of Navarre on Paris after the battle of I\ry, 
 or that of Charles Stuart on London after penetrating as far 
 as Derby, would have changed the course of human histor}-." 
 
 The determined advance of McClellan on Richmond, 
 when Lee was trembling before it with his frail arm}-, wait- 
 ing for Jackson to come up, would have resulted in the 
 capture of that capital, the annihilation of Lee's army, and 
 the collapse of the Confederac}'. Three 3'ears of terrible 
 war would have been saved, and the government of the 
 Confederac}' would have been known in histor}' as a short 
 lived rebellion, while INIcClellan would have lived as a "-reat 
 
ROBERT E. LEE. 539 
 
 commander. But Lee deluded him and outgeneraled him, 
 obtained reinforcements, saved the capital of his govern- 
 ment, and drove the best drilled army in the world into the 
 swamps of the James River. McClellan will scarcely be 
 recognized in history as a commander, but Lee has taken 
 his place in the front rank of the world's generals. The 
 historians of the war are profuse in tlieir efforts to vindicate 
 McClellan from the consequences to his fame caused by his 
 wretched failure before Richmond. But the world has no 
 disposition to listen to explanations about a disaster; it sim- 
 pl}- gives men credit for what they do, and charges them 
 with what they fail to do. Without any reference to the 
 '' ifs " involved, it strikes a balance on whatever a man has 
 done, and at the foot of a page, writes either "success," or 
 " failure." 
 
 In Whitaker's " vindication of Mary Queen of Scots," 
 that curious writer speculates on possibilities, and has every 
 impulse of a generous public favoring his heroine. He only 
 shows what might have been. He says, "When depend- 
 ence was made on Elizabeth's dying without issue, the 
 Countess of Shrewsbury had her son purposely residing in 
 London, with two good and able horses continually ready, 
 to give the earliest intelligence of the sick Elizabeth's death 
 to the imprisoned Mary. Had not this improbable event 
 actualty taken place, what a different aspect would our his- 
 tory have assumed from what it wears at present! Mary 
 would have been carried from a prison to a throne. Her 
 wise conduct in prison would have been applauded by all. 
 From Tutbury, from Sheffield, from Chatsworth, she would 
 have been said to have touched with a gentle and inasterly 
 hand the springs that actuated all the nation, against the 
 death of her tyrannical cousin." 
 
540 THE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 While every authoi- is touched with the infirmities of his 
 hero, and history becomes docile in the hands of the his- 
 torian, yet the great facts of what is done in life, or not 
 done, can not be overthrown, and Mary is being forgotten 
 except by sympathy, and Elizabeth continues to be regarded 
 as England's great queen. 
 
 When the spring of 1863 had opened, General Lee 
 decided to mo\-e into the enemy's country. His first move- 
 ment was to draw the Federal army away from its position 
 on the Rappahannock. By a masterly strategy in less than 
 two weeks he drew Hooker from his entrenchments to the 
 Upper Potomac, and planted the three corps of his own 
 army in strong positions within supporting distance of each 
 other, and from which they could command an easy entrance 
 into the enem3-'s soil, without the risk of being molested by 
 Hooker. General George G. Meade, an able and cautious 
 commander, had now taken charge of the Federal forces. 
 Divining Lee's purpose in pushing to Gettysburg, because 
 it was a strategic point, Meade also drove his army thither 
 by forced marches. The Federal cavalry reached there 
 first,. and occupied the town. Lee was now far removed 
 from his base of operations, and failing to secure the coveted 
 location, it is strange that he permitted himself to be drawn 
 into battle. His army had before it the task of storming a 
 rocky fortress, stronger than that against which Burnside 
 had dashed his army so madly at Fredericksburg, and every 
 chance of success lay with the Federals. But he explains 
 the situation in his report: "Finding ourselves thus con- 
 fronted, it became a matter of great difficulty to withdraw 
 through the mountains with our large trains. A battle thus 
 became in a measure unavoidable. Encouraged b}' the suc- 
 cessful issue of the engagement of the first day, and in vie\v 
 
ROBERT E. LEE. 54,1 
 
 of the valuable results that would ensue from the defeat of 
 the army of General Meade, it was thought advisable to 
 renew the attack." 
 
 The battle raged with var3Mng success, until Lee saw he 
 would be unable to take the city unless he silenced the bat- 
 teries with which the Federals had lined the crest of Ceme- 
 tery Hill. Major General Pickett was commanded to move 
 forward and carry the position. Thirteen thousand men 
 moved forward across the open plains in front of the enemy's 
 works. They were greeted with terrific discharges of grape 
 and canister which mowed them down by scores. Still the 
 line moved on magnificently as if on parade. Suddenly, 
 when the crest was almost reached, the hill blazed with 
 the fire of the Federal infantr}', and one division, alter a 
 gallant resistance, was forced back. Pickett's own division 
 continued to press forward. 
 
 " Steady they step adown the slope, 
 
 Steady they cUmb the hill, 
 Steady they load, steady they fire, 
 
 Marching right onward still." 
 
 While the iron hail-storm, sweeping through their ranks, 
 strewed the earth with their dead and dying. There was no 
 wavering. The gaps in their line were closed up as fast as 
 made, and with wild cheers of triumph they gained the crest, 
 drove the Federals from the works, and amid the gloom and 
 smoke, General Lee saw through the glass the battle flag of 
 the South waving from the crest of Cemetery Ridge. The 
 triumph was dearly won, and was as brief as it was glorious. 
 The grand charge had been in vain. Every brigade com- 
 mander, and all but one field officer, had fallen. The enemy 
 rallied on his second line, and poured a withering fire into the 
 captui-ed works. His sweeping fire was rapidly thinning 
 
542 TUB GENIUS OF TyDUSTliT. 
 
 the victorious ranks; all that courage could do had 
 been done, and it remained but to save the remnant of 
 the division. The order was given to fall back, and the dec- 
 imated ranks retired slowly and sullenl}' over the ground 
 they had immortalized. As he saw his men driven back 
 from the heights, General Lee placed a finger thoughtfully 
 upon his lips, the only sign of perplexity he was ever known 
 to exhibit. He realized the gravity of the situation. The 
 Federal army was too strong to be driven from its position, 
 and he could not attempt to hold the country in its presence. 
 He could no longer hope for a successful issue to his invasion 
 of the North, and on the following day his shattered ranks 
 once more tm^ned their faces towards Virginia. The hero- 
 ism of the man could not be overthrown by the victorious 
 cannons of theenem}'; he was still the leader of the army, 
 holding the unbroken confidence of his men, and in his gen- 
 erosity alone assuming the responsibility of the defeat. To 
 General Wilcox, when he came to report the failure of the 
 attack, he said, " Never mind, General; all this has been my 
 fault; it is I that have lost this fight, and you must help me 
 out of it the best way 3'ou can." 
 
 When General Lee embarked in the cause of the South, 
 he was the possessor of considerable wealth. His estate fell 
 into the hands of the enemy at the outset, and by the close of 
 1862 his other property was within the Federal lines, and of 
 no service to him. He was dependent upon his pay as a gen- 
 eral of the Confederate army. This soon became inadequate 
 to the task of providing for his family, and they, in common 
 with the people of the South, were subjected to hardships 
 and privations. When this became known to the citizens of 
 Richmond, the city government appropriated a large sum of 
 money for the purpose of purchasing a residence for his fam- 
 
ROBERT E. LEE. 543 
 
 ily. On being notified of the generous action, General Lee 
 at once declined the gift, and asked the Cit}' Council to devote 
 the means to the necessities of the families of the soldiers in 
 the field. The incident was equal to the dying Sydney hand- 
 ing the cup of water to the private soldier on the field of Zut- 
 phen. After the retreat from Gettysburg the army went 
 into winter quarters, it was the winter of '63 and '64. 
 
 In January the government found itself unable to procure 
 a sufficient supply of provisions for the army. The conse- 
 quent reduction of rations proved a great trial to the General's 
 interest in the soldiers. With that steadfast patriotism to be 
 one with his men, he not only kept his quarters on the field 
 with their insufficient accommodations, but the rations on his 
 table were the same as theirs. His ordinary dinner consisted 
 of a head of cabbage boiled in salt water, and a pone of 
 corn bread. He one da}^ invited a company of visitors to 
 dine with him, and in a fit of extravagance ordered the cab- 
 bage boiled with middling. The dinner was served, and be- 
 hold: a great pile of cabbage and a bit of middling about four 
 inches long and two inches across ! The guests with com- 
 mendable politeness unanimously declined middling, and it 
 reinained in the dish untouched. The next day the General 
 remembering the delicate tit-bit, which had been so provid- 
 entially preserved, ordered his servant to "bring that mid- 
 dling." The man hesitated, scratched his head, and finally 
 owned up. "De fac' is, Marse Robert, dat ar middlin' 
 was borrowed middlin'; we all did'nt had nar' a spec; an' I 
 done paid it back to de man whar I got it from." The 
 General heaved a sigh of deep disappointment, and pitched 
 into his cabbage 
 
 The campaign of the following year found General Grant 
 in command of the Federal forces. With his vast energies 
 
544 THE GENIUS OP INDUSTRY. 
 
 he massed a mighty army between Washington and Rich- 
 mond, and moved across the Rapidan, proposing to over- 
 whehii Lee by numbers, if he could not be defeated by 
 strategy and battle. Grant moved around his enemy's flank, 
 proposing to cut oft' his communications, but Lee rushed 
 out of his entrenchments, and hurled iiis cohimns against his 
 antagonist, M^hen he least expected it, and held him back in 
 the wilderness during that unparalleled battle ot" a week's 
 duration which finally compelled him to abandon his 
 original movement. He then attempted to plant his army 
 between Lee and Richmond, at Spottsylvania. In this he 
 was foiled. A renewed eftbrt to outflank Lee was made by 
 way of the Pamunky; this also failed, and a final masterly 
 eftbrt was made at Chickahominy, which was repulsed at a 
 terrible cost. If Grant lost sixty thousand men in these 
 engagements, as reports indicate, he lost more men than Lee 
 had in his army. A more heroic and strategic eftbrt is not 
 recorded in the annals of war than this campaign of Gen- 
 eral Lee to preserve Richmond from the countless host that 
 menaced it. General Grant now decided to abandon the 
 favorite scheme of his government — the co\-ering of Wash- 
 ington Cit}'. He struck out in the boldness of his military 
 genius and executed the greatest movement of the Northern 
 army during the war. He proposed to cover Washington 
 by threatening Petersburg and Richmond. Thq, two armies 
 faced each other in strong entrenchments near Petersburg, 
 but neither dared to make a general attack upon the other. 
 When the spring of 1S65 opened, the cause of the South 
 was in a desperate strait. The people had lost confidence 
 in their President and Congress, the army was starving, and 
 all classes were reduced to poxert}' and want. Everj'where 
 ruin threatened the cause. In this hour of darkness the 
 
ROBERT E. LEE. 545 
 
 country turned to General Lee as its last hope. His inte- 
 grity and wisdom had never been impeached, and the people 
 had given him the reverent homage of admiration and con- 
 fidence. The demand that he be put at the head of all the 
 armies became too powerful to be longer resisted, and the 
 Confederate Congress formalh' declared him commander-in- 
 chief. 
 
 General Lee shrunk from the sublime responsibility now 
 placed upon him, but, like Charles XII of Sweden, when .he 
 saw the government on the ver}' verge of disaster, he seized 
 the sword with a firm hand. The desire was rapidly grow- 
 ing general that he become a militar}' dictator, as the last 
 hope of saving the cause. This he would not hear to. Had 
 he accepted dictatorial power in the hopeless condition of 
 affairs, he could do no more than prolong the agony of their 
 death. It was a profound heroism for him to accept the 
 headship of the armies, for he knew the South was doomed 
 already, and one more campaign would forever close its 
 existence; and that in its fall the disapointment and ruin of 
 the people and the cause would be visited upon him. But 
 true to the patriotism of his soldierly instincts, he dutifully 
 accepted the responsibility his government laid upon him. 
 In the spring of 1S65 General Lee found his army reduced 
 to thirty-three thousand men. He was unable to engage 
 Grant in general battle, and that pushing General swept his 
 cavalry down the valley, and at Five Forks made good the 
 movement he had been "hammering" on for eleven months 
 — he turned Lee's flank. Lee was now compelled to re- 
 treat from Petersburg. The remnant of his army fell back 
 for more than one hundred miles, repeatedly presenting front 
 to his antagonist, and giving battle so as to prevent his pro- 
 gress. Finally his exhausted army, with eight thousand 
 
546 THE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 men bearing arms, and eighteen thousand stragglers, sur- 
 rendered at Appomattox. Since General Lee had taken 
 command of the army of Northern Virginia he had made a 
 campaign unexampled in the history of defensive warfare. 
 Neither Bonaparte nor Marlborough could have withstood 
 the great odds against him; for one half of four years the 
 former lived on victories; one defeat crushed him. 
 
 General Lee was careful of the lives of his men, fertile in 
 resource, a profound tactician, gifted with the swift intuition 
 which enables a commander to discover the purpose of an 
 enemy, and the power of rapid combination which enables 
 him to oppose to it a prompt resistance; among men, noble 
 as the noblest, in the lofty dignity of the Christian gentle- 
 man; combining the religious simplicity of Havclock with 
 the genius of Hannibal, the heroism of Bayard and Sydney, 
 and the untiring, never-faltering duty of Wellington. Like 
 Napoleon, his troops soon learned to believe him equal to 
 any emergency war could bring. Like Raglan, he pre- 
 served a sweetness of temper that no person or circumstance 
 could ruffle. Like Cajsar, he mixed with the crowd of 
 soldierh' freely, and never feared that his position would be 
 forgotten. Like Blucher, his one recognized fault was — 
 that which the soldier readily forgives — a readiness to 
 expose his life beyond the proper limits permitted b}' modern 
 war to the commander-in-chief." 
 
 He commanded an arm}' that would have died for him; 
 an army from which his parting wrung tears; an arm}' that 
 followed him through three years of vicissitudes until their 
 ranks were worn so thin and haggard they could not be 
 called an arm}', and then stacked arms at Appomatox with- 
 out thought of further resistance when they saw him sheath 
 
ROBERT E. LEE. 547 
 
 forever his unblemished sword, and ask them to go with 
 hitn from the arts of war to the toils of peace. 
 
 General Lee inet adversity with the same cheerfulness he 
 had displa3-ed in the midst of success. The tranquility of 
 his calm and amiable nature never surrendered to either 
 victory or defeat. From the moment of his surrender he 
 endeavored, as far as la}' in his power, to promote the return 
 of peace and good will between the two sections of the 
 country. To all who sought his advice he recommended a 
 prompt and sincere submission to the laws of the United 
 States, for his judgment told him the best way for the 
 South to restore her prosperity was in a sincere acceptance 
 of the situation. The North recognized him as a general 
 with few equals in history, and his conscientious carrying 
 out of the surrender, in all of its bearings, by his plea for 
 the restoration of peace and harmony, won for him a place 
 of high regard with every true patriot. 
 
 He was now advanced in 3'ears and without means or 
 position to secure even the daily bread for his family. In 
 August, 1865, he was offered the Presidency of Washington 
 College, in Lexington, Virginia, and accepted the position. 
 It relieved him from public affairs, and gave an opportunity 
 for the exercise of his fine executive ability. His installation 
 as President, at his own request, was after the simplest 
 manner possible. As his first step he sought to become 
 acquainted with the students. Each candidate, on register- 
 ing his name for entrance to the college, was conducted to 
 the President's room and given an introduction. In this 
 way he obtained a personal acquaintance and some idea of 
 the qualities in each student. In view of the vast number 
 coming to Washington during his presidency this would 
 seem to be an impossible task; with ordinary men it would 
 
548 THE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 have been such. He put his mind to whatever he did. He 
 knew every student in the college, and would greet each one 
 b}" name whenever they met. . At one of the ineetings of 
 the faculty, for the purpose of reviewing the roll of the 
 attendants, a name was read out which was not familiar to 
 his ear. He repeated the name to himself with a slow and 
 heavy emphasis on each syllable, adding, with evident sur- 
 prise, " I have no recollection of a student of that name. It 
 is very strange that I have forgotten him. I thought I 
 knew every one in the college. How long has he been 
 here.-*" Nor would he be satisfied until it was settled b}' 
 an investigation, that the student had recently entered and 
 was admitted in the President's absence; so that, in fact, 
 the latter had never seen him. 
 
 When General Lee became president of Washington Col- 
 lege there were six^y students in attendance, and four active 
 professors. At the end of five 3'ears, when death closed his 
 labors, there were twenty professors and four hundred stu- 
 dents. His labors at Washington, so devoted, so full of far- 
 reaching plans, and of will and successful effort, was begun 
 under the weight of a disappointment which might have bro- 
 ken any ordinary strength, and was maintained in the midst 
 of public and private misfortunes, with a serene patience, and 
 a mingled firmness and sweetness of temper that give addi- 
 tional brilliancy even to the glory of his former fame. He 
 met the temptations and the perils of the highest stations be- 
 fore the e3'es of the world, and the cares and labors of the 
 most responsible duties of private life, under the tr}ing cir- 
 cumstances, and exhibited in all the qualities of a consistent 
 character, sustained by the loftiest principles of virtue and 
 religion. He was a man profoundly true, deep centered in 
 principles, always actuated by a sense of dut}', and operated 
 
ROBERT E. LEE. 549 
 
 by the same materials in his nature, whether he commanded 
 the whirl and thunder of battle that shook the solid globe, or 
 directed the silent and peaceful destiny of college halls. An 
 acquaintance sa3's, " I was permitted to see, during five years, 
 the daily effects of his power in the college — the skill with 
 which he managed its affairs, and enthusiasm with which he 
 inspired all who came in contact with him, until he had one 
 of the hardest-working Faculties, and one of the most orderl}', 
 studious bodies of young men in the country. I was im- 
 pressed with the conviction that he was not only the best sol- 
 dier, but also the best college president, whom the country 
 had ever produced." 
 
 The most trying scenes of army life never drew from him 
 a hasty word, and the greatest misfortunes never brought an 
 utterance of reproach on the deserving cause. He was a 
 manly man. An English nobleman appreciating his poverty 
 after the close of the war, thinking he would rejoice in some 
 place of retreat, offered him a splendid country seat, and a 
 handsome annuity. He replied: "I am deeply grateful, 
 but I can not consent to desert my native State in the hour 
 of her adversity. I must abide her fortunes and share her 
 fate." 
 
 On the afternoon of September 28th, 1870, he attended 
 the vestry meeting of Grace Episcopal Church, of which he 
 was a member. The church was cold and damp, he was 
 chairman, but sat with his military cape cast loosel}' about 
 him. Toward the close of the meeting it was ascertained 
 the minister's salary had not yet been fully made up. When 
 the treasurer announced the deficit still remaining. General 
 Lee said, in a low tone: "Just add that balance to my sub- 
 scription," and adjourned the meeting. As a friend walked 
 home with him, he seemed tired, and there was a flush on his 
 
550 THE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 face. The family were waiting tea, and at once proceeded 
 to the table, where standing, as was his wont to return thanks, 
 his lips could not utter the prayer. He sank quietly into his 
 seat, helpless. He was borne to his couch, beyond the skill 
 of physicians. The great powers of his life were worn out. 
 His decline was rapid, 3'et gentle. His mind seemed to revert 
 to the old scenes, and once when it wandered, just before 
 death, he said, with emphasis, " Tell Hill he must come up! " 
 On the morning of October 12th he closed his eyes, and his 
 soul passed peacefully from earth. 
 
,^^m 
 
 <5CVUK>> 
 
mm^E,^^ jimi^- 
 
 "Order is heaven's first law." 
 
 Seest thou a man diligent in his business? He shall stand before kings, — 
 Solomon. 
 
 Duty by habit is to pleasure turn'd; 
 He IS content who to obey has learn'd. 
 
 — Str S- E. Brydges. 
 
 Show me thy faith without thy works and I will show thee my faith by my 
 'NOxV.^.— .James. 
 
^ij^ii}^^<^ 
 
 HEN we take hold of habits to discuss them we 
 T»Yi;ij enter upon a field of thought that challenges a 
 c*'ic*^'v rounded and full survey. We can not limit our- 
 selves to the mere mechanism and automatism of man, much 
 as they have to do with creating this tyrannical master — 
 Habit. Two kinds of forces operate the affairs of this life 
 — moral and physical. One kind is as real as the other, 
 although the best thinkers have not succeeded in demon- 
 strating the fact. It is hard, say the people, to take hold of 
 invisible things, as though moral force were invisible. Give 
 us something tangible and practical, say they, and we will 
 embrace it. They can discern a Great Eastern plowing its 
 bulky way through the main, laden down to the guards 
 with cargo, and they can appreciate this. But if a Spurgeon 
 set his sail to the breezes of truth, that he may bear the 
 burden of London's sins away, and if thousands on thousands 
 of weary people are thereby relieved and refreshed, they 
 affect not to discover any utility in such a force. 
 
 Now the question is. Can the habits of men, as influenc- 
 ing their business, be satisfactorily analyzed without refer- 
 ence to such things, for example, as honor and integrity .-' 
 If a man ignore and scout them, denying verbal contracts 
 
554 THE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 because there were no witnesses by, or evading prompt pay- 
 ments by taking ad\'antage of some slight technicalit}- in 
 law — if a man do thus, will he thrive and last on the street? 
 
 Deeper down in the business character lie the moral facul- 
 ties, essential to and inseparable from it. In illustration we 
 call attention to some information respecting the social and 
 political condition of the Dutch recently sent to this country 
 b}- our minister at the Hague. He says there has not been 
 a bank failure in Holland during the last forty years, and 
 that the paper money of the banks during that time has been 
 equal to gold. There is no such thing as the failure of a 
 fire insurance company on record, and while the rate of 
 insurance does not average inore than a half of one per cent., 
 the companies are in the most flourishing condition, realiz- 
 ing twelve to sixteen per cent, per annum. First-class rail- 
 road travel is only one cent per mile, and 3"et the roads pay 
 good dividends. Pilfering ofBciais are scarcel}' ever heard 
 of, and when they shock the nation by turning up, they are 
 se^•erely punished and forever disgraced. Dishonesty of any 
 kind or failure in business ineans public dishonor, and utterly 
 bars the dishonest from any future public consideration. 
 Four millions of people live within an area of twenty-nine 
 thousand square miles, and all appear to be happy, prosper- 
 ous and contented. The secret of this prosperit}' lies in the 
 fact that all live within their income, and that industry and 
 honesty are principles firmly established in the national 
 character. 
 
 Whether we rank habit among the moral powers or not, 
 its influence remains the same. There are times in the life 
 of every man when fate seems to thrust almost overwhelm- 
 ing burdens upon him, and nothing but the sustaining power 
 of habit, gathered through long 3-ears of continuance in well 
 
BUSINESS HABITS. 555 
 
 doing, can save him from being utterly crushed. And yet 
 the action on his part is neither premeditated nor vokintary. 
 It comes up, prompt to time, like Blucher's corps at Water- 
 loo, and saves the day. The habit of talking about nothing 
 but religion saved John Wesley's religious reputation to 
 posterit}'; for if he had ever stopped to quarrel with that 
 Xantippe of a wife, or reply to his slanderers, he would have 
 fallen. Who has not seen men perform certain good deeds 
 by sheer force of habit, and felt at the time there was no 
 praise deserved .^ The constant repetition of the thing had 
 developed a habit which became second nature. The habit 
 of looking toward the right precluded them from seeing the 
 wrong. It would have created a jar and a pain had it been 
 resisted. Observing this, some one has felt constrained to 
 say, "All is habit in mankind, even virtue itself" The 
 silken threads of smiles and gentle airs so wove themselves, 
 by constant practice, into the web of Chesterfield's char- 
 acter, that he sat in the House of Lords during a most 
 malicious assault on his honor, unruffled as a day in June, 
 parrying the fiercest of invectives with the softest of words. 
 But one frail wire was at first thrown across the Niagara, 
 then another was added, and another, until the spider's web 
 became a woven cable, and great loaded trains now pass in 
 safety over the Suspension Bridge. " Like flakes of snow 
 that fall unperceived upon the earth," says Jerem}' Bentham, 
 ■ " the seemingly unimportant events of life succeed one 
 another. As the snow gathers together, so are our habits 
 formed; no single flake that is added to the pile produces a 
 sensible change; no single action creates, however it mny 
 exhibit, a man's character; but as the tempest hurls the 
 avalanche down the mountain, and overwhelms the inhabi- 
 tant and his habitation, so passion, acting upon the elements 
 
556 THE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 of mischief which pernicious habits have brought together 
 by imperceptible accumulation, may overthrow the edifice 
 of truth and virtue." 
 
 There is value in steady accretions. Insects even know 
 this, and from the bottom of the ocean to the surface, by 
 the deposit of their little particles, rear the coral continent. 
 One tick of the clock is an insignificant thing, but after a 
 while it has ticked an hour into eternit}', and still we think 
 it small, but on the tireless little trifler ticks until its accu- 
 mulated strokes toll us into eternity, and our hopes and aims 
 are gone forever. 
 
 Life is made up of little acts. As a man spends his 
 moments, so will he spend his hours. The world judges of 
 a man by some great deed he has done. The judgment is 
 well founded. The great deed is only an armful of his little 
 deeds. A lake is only a larger pond; a mountain is only an 
 enlarged hill; a great deed is only a little one fully grown. 
 In the majorit}' of cases where men have attained success, it 
 has been greatly owing to the cultivated habit of attention 
 to little things. 
 
 The success of a business man depends measurabl}' on his 
 habits. If he have good business habits, allied to average 
 business abilities, then may he depend on realizing more 
 than average success. Man}' literary men have thought 
 the business man was much like a blind horse on the tread- 
 mill — he had only to walk on the beaten track, and let 
 affairs take their natural course. Hazlitt, in his clever essay 
 on " Thought and Action," regards a business life as a mere 
 plodding affair, and the routine of business simpl)' machine 
 work. " The great requisite," he says, "for the prosperous 
 management of ordinary business is the want of imagination, 
 or of any ideas but those of custom and interest on the nar- 
 
BUSiySSS HABITS. 557 
 
 rowest scale. Take what you can get, keep what you can 
 get, seize eagerly every opportunity that offers for promot- 
 ing your own interest, and make the most of the advantages 
 you have already obtained, and, by plodding, persevering 
 industry, }'ou will become a first-class merchant." 
 
 This is but a one-sided view. Of course, there are nar- 
 row-minded men in business, as there are in every pursuit. 
 But it is an utterly low view of business which regards it as 
 onlv a means of getting a living. Every man ought to 
 realize that he has a mission in life, and that his business is 
 the channel by which he fulfills it. An}- other view of bus- 
 iness is selfish and degrading. Hazlitt himself refuted in 
 practice the doctrine of his essay; for no man ever wrote 
 more assiduously for a commercial consideration than Wil- 
 liam Hazlitt. 
 
 Narrow men in every pursuit are numerous. But the 
 great men in ever}' pursuit are few. The}' may almost be 
 counted on the fingers. The clerical profession boasts but 
 few Augustines, Chr}'sostoms, Luthers, Calvins, Wesleys 
 and Campbells; the militar}' but few Caesars, Bonapartes 
 and Grants; the diplomatic but few Talleyrands, INIarlbor- 
 oughs and Bismarcks; the legal but few Cokes, Eldons and 
 Marshalls. As Burke said, " There are statesmen who act 
 as peddlers, and merchants who act in the spirit of states- 
 men." There is opportunity in almost e^•ery pursuit for 
 men to distinguish themselves, and consummate business 
 men are as rare as great writers or statesmen. 
 
 Among money getters there are but few Rothschilds, 
 Grays and Vanderbilts; among inventors but few Palissys, 
 Morses and Howes; among merchants but few Shillittos, 
 Claflins and Stewarts; among farmers but few Kents, 
 Strawns and Greenes. Nature is a just mother, and all her 
 
558 THE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 industries are much nearer a level than the world commonly 
 supposes. When did warrior, artist or statesman ever 
 exhibit greater research, concentration of aim and sagacit}' 
 than Bernard Pallissy in the production of glaze to cover 
 pottery? If we take into account the qualities necessary 
 for the successful conduct of any important undertaking — 
 that it requires special aptitude, decision of character, perse- 
 verance, often capacity for organizing the labors of large 
 numbers of men, a profound knowledge of human nature, 
 and the relation of activities and results — it is evident that 
 business demands the essential elements of a successful life 
 as much as the professions. 
 
 When we see A. T. Stewart conducting a business that, 
 near and remote, requires as vast an army of operatives as 
 Bonaparte had soldiers at Austerlitz; taxing the producers 
 of every clime; on the war-path with ten thousand com- 
 petitors scattered over the area of a continent; and then die 
 serenely after accumvilating fifty millions of dollars; or, 
 when a Henry W. Smith brings " Black Frida}' " to Wall 
 street, a pale face to the secretary of a nation's treasury, 
 and makes the financial foundations of a republic quake, we 
 are ready to conclude that there are colossal powers in men 
 of business as well as in warriors and statesmen 
 
 The path of success in any calling is usually the path of 
 common sense. Many of the most successful men in the 
 professions have acquired habits of patient labor and appli- 
 cation in their earlier days, when they stood b}' the forge or 
 followed the plow. The old Greeks said: " To become an 
 able man in any profession three things are necessary — 
 nature, study, and practice." These are the very tools that 
 make a good business man. Was not Spinoza a polisher of 
 glass? Was not Chaucer a hardy soldier? Was not Coper- 
 
BUSINESS HABITS. 559 
 
 nicus a baker? Was not Linngeus a leather pounder? 
 These men, by their toihngs, laid the foundations of char- 
 acter on which, afterward, they reared their imperishable 
 works. How it would goad a modern literatus to peddle 
 oil like Plato or make tents like Paul to pay his current 
 expenses. 
 
 Books can never teach the use of books; neither can the 
 knowledge of a thing insure the practice of it. A man ma}' 
 write a vigorous essay on economy, as Sheridan did, and 
 then follow him further in the squandering of a half a dozen 
 fortunes. A man may talk advisedly against the credit 
 system, entreating all to avoid it like poison, and yet all the 
 while be fleeing from creditors like Jean Paul Richter. 
 
 Many men are capable of giving wholesome advice; few, 
 in their own case, put it into execution. Many men can 
 conduct a business economically and profitably for others, 
 but fail in every investment they make for themselves. 
 
 William Pitt, without a family, spent an income of £6,000 
 a year, dj'ing hopelessly in debt. The same man ruled 
 England for a quarter of a century with less expense and 
 more prosperously than any premier for a hundred years 
 previous. Macaulay sa3's: "The character of Pitt would 
 have stood higher if to the disinterestedness of Pericles and 
 DeWitt he had united their dignified frugality." These 
 men who counsel and manage so wisely for others, but can 
 never utilize their abilities in the conduct of their own 
 affairs, form a numerous body. Carlyle wittily observes 
 that " they are obe3'ing man's highest mission — spending 
 themselves for the good of others." 
 
 Sheridan was one of the wisest and wittiest of men. He 
 stood on the vantage ground of genius and scholarship. Pos- 
 sessing an amazing facility for composition — dashing otT 
 
560 THE GENIUS OF IXDUSTRT. 
 
 " Pizarro " at one sitting in a club-room — he could with a 
 stroke touch the apex of thought, tracing the subtlest meta- 
 physician througli all his dim and de\-ious windings, expos- 
 ing the fallacies of each Utopian schemer, or breaking the 
 logician on the rack of some unforseen dilemma. Yet this 
 prodigy, in whom the powers of the mind seemed to work 
 instinctively, when he came into the theatre of daily business 
 acted the very character that he had made tne butt of his 
 ridicule. 
 
 INIirabeau, the thunderer of the forum, whose political strat- 
 egy and social wit were the envy and admiration of all France, 
 could not contrive to earn his daily bread, and died indebted 
 to the tailor for his wedding suit." Sterne did not reserve a 
 penny for his old age, and was so miserably poor that, on 
 dying, his friends passed a subscription to buy mourning 
 dresses for his wife and daughter. Butler, the satirist of the 
 seventeenth centur3^ whose learning, wit, and ingenious 
 thought, as spoken by Sir Hudibras and his squire, Ralph, 
 in that unrivaled poem, " Hudibras," died of star\ation in 
 Rose Alley. Beethoven's sonatas have ravished with delight 
 the ears of all music lovers, yet he did not know enough to 
 cut the coupon from a bond, to raise a little money, instead 
 of selling the entire instrument. At times he was so strait- 
 ened for means that he dined daily simpl}' on a roll of bread 
 and a glass of water; at another time, when flush with money, 
 he paid his tailor three hundred florins in advance, and sent 
 a friend the same amount to buy him some shirts and a half- 
 dozen pocket-handkerchiefs. The brilliant but dissolute 
 Otway was hunted by bailiffs to his last hiding-place on Tower 
 Hill. His last act was to beg a shilling of a gentleman, and 
 buy a loaf to appease his hunger. He died, choked by the first 
 mouthful. Savage, though his tragedies stamped him a gen- 
 
BUSIA'£:SS UADITS. 561 
 
 ius, and his poems were written with a divine pathos, was 
 kept from the ahnshouse a great portion of his hfe by the 
 Crown and the contributions of Pope. He usually spent his 
 annual pension of fift}' pounds within live days after receiv- 
 ing it. Once during his time it was fashionable to wear scar- 
 let cloaks trimmed with gold lace, and Johnson met him one 
 day just after he had got his pension, with one of these gor- 
 geous affairs on his back, while at the same time his naked 
 toes were sticking out through his shoes. He finall}' died in 
 prison, lying under a debt of eight pounds. 
 
 And what was the pivot on which the lives of all these men 
 swung over into disaster.? It was their indisposition to seize 
 and keep in hand the daily business that belongs to all. John- 
 son, in concluding his ''Life of Savage," very tersely ob- 
 serves: "This relation will not be wholly without its use if 
 those who, in confidence of superior capacities or attainments, 
 disregard the common maxims of life, shall be reminded that 
 nothing will supply the want of prudence, and that negligence 
 and irregularity, long continued, will make knowledge useless, 
 wit ridiculous, and genius contemptible." 
 
 Montaigne, in one of his essa5's, speaking of true philoso- 
 phers, says: " If the}' were great in science, they were yet 
 much greater in action; "'^ * * and whenever they have 
 been put upon the proof, they have been seen to fiy to so 
 high a pitch, as made it very well appear their souls were 
 strangely elevated and enriched with the knowledge of 
 things." This keen and discriminating thought on the prop- 
 erly-developed man he illustrates by a passage in the life of 
 his favorite, Thales: " Thales, once, inveighing in discourse 
 against the pains and care men put themselves to to become 
 rich, was answered b}' one in the company ' that he did like 
 the fox, who found fault with what he could not obtain.' 
 
56a TEE GENIUS OF INDTJSTBY. 
 
 Thereupon Thales had a mind, for the jest's sake, to show 
 them the contrary; and having upon this occasion for once 
 made a muster of all his wits, wholly to emplo}- them in the 
 service of profit, he set a traffic on foot, which in one year 
 brought him so great riches that the most experienced in that 
 trade could hardl}' in their whole lives, with all their indus- 
 try have raked so much together." 
 
 The man who is a giant in the closet and a child in the 
 world will find his half-developed self at a strange disadvan- 
 tage with the things that make for success in the world. The 
 great fault lies in the fact that the culture has been bestowed 
 disproportionately. Such persons may have been drilled in 
 the text books, but have never been marshaled on the field. 
 They have been taught that devotion to imaginative and 
 philosophical literature, with singleness of heart, would very 
 soon bring the world under their chariot wheels. They have 
 given themselves up wholly to A'igorous thinking. Life also 
 demands vigorous acting. 
 
 Culture properly bestowed does not make hobb3'ists. It 
 inakes live, real, ready men. It endows them with tact to 
 take hold of the vital questions of life and solve them profit- 
 ably; discipline, b}' which each thought and act is jointly 
 trained to reach one common end ; together with such knowl- 
 edge as they must avail themselves of if the}- would treat 
 with the world hopefully, intending to win. Polish and aes- 
 thetics are poor things to buy bread with. A man will be 
 perpetually in the breach unless he has sense enough to wall 
 it up. Let our poets and our preachers, our artists and our 
 astronomers, our law3-ers and our phj'sicians, our professors 
 and our philosophers bestow more time on material matters 
 and less on ethereal; and let our schools and colleges remem- 
 ber to make men — stalwart, invincible men — men who are. 
 
BUSINESS HABITS. 563 
 
 neither to be tripped up by the tricks of fortune nor trodden 
 down by the heel of rivah-y. 
 
 We are glad to know that all professional men are not bus- 
 iness failures. Jefferson could either draft " The Declaration'' 
 or manage a plantation. Theodore Parker was one of the 
 best ax-men in his region. Alexander Campbell could trans- 
 late the Testament, debate theological problems, endow and 
 carry on a college, and manage successfully half a dozen 
 farms. Evarts managed a farni and the nation's business be- 
 sides, not finding his superabundant lore any hindrance. 
 Beecher is equally at home with men, machinery, literature, 
 theology, politics, flowers and farming. Thiers was orator, 
 philosopher, historian and statesman. Lamb was one of the 
 cleverest clerks in the India House. Calvin controlled the 
 municipalit}' of Geneva. 
 
 It is perhaps needless to dwell at length on the necessity 
 of concentration of aim. Of the men who have come to 
 distinction the great multitude have wrought with but one 
 thought in the mind. Few men have lived who were able 
 to accomplish two great intentions. Some one has said that 
 a good business man ought not to be able to appreciate a 
 joke unless it has a business point in it. He must love his 
 business so devotedl}' that he has a keener appreciation for 
 things connected with it than for an)^thing else. A man 
 cannot succeed without bringing his whole mind, soul and 
 strength to the altar of his calling. He must love it as a 
 whole, and its drudgery and details, with a passion amount- 
 ing to enthusiasm. A yell and a dash have won a battle 
 when all day cannonades have done nothing but raise the 
 dust. 
 
 It has been remarked that the difference between an ord- 
 inary mind and the mind of a Newton consists principally in 
 
564 THE GEXIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 this, that the one is capable of more continuous attention 
 than the other — that a Newton is able, without fatigue, to 
 connect inference with inference in one long series toward a 
 determined end; while the man of inferior capacity is soon 
 obliged to break or let fall the thread which he has begun to 
 spin. * * * ''Nay, genius itself," sa3's Helvetius, "is noth- 
 ing but a higher power of attention." "In the exact 
 sciences, at least, " says Cuvier, " it is the patience of sound 
 intellect, when invincible, which truly constitutes genius." 
 And Chesterfield has also observed that " the power of ap- 
 pl3'ing an attention undeviatingl}^ to a single object is the 
 sure mark of a superior genius." 
 
 A patient concentration of attention to one subject is then 
 recognized as of prime importance to successful work. The 
 ability to concentrate the thoughts and energies is to a 
 degree natural. But ever}' man possessed of zuill power can, 
 by continued effort, attain such singleness of action that he 
 becomes oblivious of all else. It is said that Lord Palmer- 
 ston was naturally dissipated in thought, but b}- giving 
 himself resolutely to one thing at a time he so far over- 
 came his native tendencies that oneness of thought and aim 
 became his leading characteristic. He would take his seat 
 in his carriage for a ride, and having some topic laid aside 
 for this occasion, would at once marshal his forces for the 
 onset. The carriage would whirl by the noble dukes and 
 lords, but he saw them not; roll through Grosvenor Square, 
 but he knew it not; take a spin through the West End, but 
 he recognized it not; draw up before his door with a jerk 
 but his thoughts were elsewhere. The driver would open 
 the door, and say, "Home, my Lord." Palmerston would 
 wake up and step out, saying, " Had a nice ride, didn't we, 
 Tom t " 
 
BUSIXESii HABITS. 565 
 
 It is said a Yankee can splice a rope in many different 
 ways; an English sailor knows but one mode, but that mode 
 is the best. The English are noted for singleness of pur- 
 pose, hence whate\er an Englishman 'does, he does well. 
 But the average American imagines himself a failure unless 
 he has a half-dozen irons in the fire; hence he is too fre- 
 quently Jack-of-all-trades and good for none. 
 
 Mental dissipation is ruining our literary men, and busi- 
 ness dissipation is bankrupting our business men. The half- 
 hearted, half-decided, double-aimed men ne\er win the 
 victories. Old Dr. Alexander used to say to the young- 
 preachers, " Many ministers are eniliusiastic about other 
 things, such as art, poetr}-, authorship, politics; but their 
 Sabbath sermon is like a sponge from which all the moisture 
 is squeezed out. Live for yowx sermon — live in your ser- 
 mon. Get some starling to cry, sei-mon, seriiwn, sermon!'''' 
 
 Whatever your calling, say with Paul, " this one thing I 
 do." Then take the advice of Solomon: " Whatsoever thy 
 hand findeth to do, do it with th}- might." You can not 
 afford to dawdle away a moment of time. Know your bus- 
 iness in all its details. Marry it. Take it with you wher- 
 ever you go, and your devotion will tell on the profit side of 
 the ledger. 
 
 The faculty of self-control is a virtue in the business man. 
 The man who resists impulses and controls himself is more 
 than an animal. He drills his desires and keeps them in 
 subjection to the higher powers of his nature. " He that 
 ruleth his own spirit is mightier than he that taketh a cit}"." 
 Herbert Spencer, in his Social Statics, says: "In the 
 supremacy of self-control consists one of the perfections of 
 the ideal man. Not to be impulsive — not to be spurred 
 hither and thither by each desire that in turn comes upper- 
 
566 THE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 most — but to be self-restrained, self-balanced, governed by 
 the joint decisions of the feelings in council assembled, before 
 whom every action shall ha\e been full}' debated and calmly 
 determined — that it is which education, moral education at 
 least, strives to produce." The home, the seminar}-, and 
 the world, are the graded schools in which this valiant vir- 
 tue is trained. Purity of mind, serenity of temperament, 
 and judicious speech, become habitual and are built into the 
 nature by careful self-discipline. 
 
 The best support of self control is in habit. We are the 
 willing subjects or we become the servile slaves of habit. 
 As we control ourselves in the formative stages of our char- 
 acter, so does habit prove a benignant ruler or a cruel despot. 
 Some one said " eloquence was the quality most needed in 
 a prime minister; " another said it was "knowledge;" and 
 a third said it was "wit." Mr. Pitt, listening to the con- 
 versation, said, "No, it is patience." Patience is often 
 regarded as a slow virtue, but in William Pitt it crowded 
 competitors like a winning race horse. Earl Stanhope says 
 he one day found Mr. Christmas, Pitt's private secretary, 
 over head and ears in court papers and suffering constant 
 interruptions without the least rulBe of temper. He could 
 not forego his desire to learn the secret of such equanimity. 
 "Well, you shall know it," Mr. Christmas replied, " ]\Ir. 
 Pitt gave it to me: Not to lose -my temper., if possible., at 
 any time., and never during- the hours of business. My 
 labors here commence at nine and end at three; and, acting 
 on the advice of the illustrious statesman, / never lose my 
 temper during those hours.'''' 
 
 Vehement passions are evidences of power going to waste 
 — steam rushing out through the safety-valve for want of 
 proper and useful employment. Scores of inen fritter and 
 
BirSIJ^ESS HABITS. 567 
 
 fume away half their force. Bonaparte and WelHngton 
 were irritable in the extreme, and all their passions were of 
 a fierce order. But they began a course of rigid self-control 
 in early life, and thus, turning the vital force that would 
 have been wasted in criminal expenditure on to their single 
 aim, they controlled themselves, thereby controlled others, 
 and were thus driven on to their great achievements. 
 
 Was not Luther so irritable when a child that the family 
 could never please him.^ Was not the chief characteristic 
 of the saintly Barrow punching the other boys under the 
 eyes.'' Was not Wesley a most inconsiderate boy.'' And 
 did not the boy Caesar keep the famil}' forever in a row, so 
 that.they sent him off to school to get rid of him.'' Jared 
 Sparks says that " Washington's temperament was ardent, 
 his passions strong, and sometimes they broke out with 
 vehemence; but he had the power of checking them in an 
 instant. Perhaps self-control was the most remarkable trait 
 of his character." By unwearied self-discipline did these 
 men ultimately triumph over their passions, and create out 
 of the saved force a crown for their manhood. Whenever 
 Stephen Girard heard of a clerk with a strong temper, he 
 would seek to employ him, setting him to work in a room 
 by himself He claimed that such persons were the best 
 workers, and that their energy would expend itself in work 
 if so controlled that it could not flow out any other way. 
 
 Blessed is the man who has the habit of keeping things 
 that ought not to be spoken. The man whose tongue, like 
 Tennyson's book, runs on and " on forever," will surely 
 come to difficulty. . A business man ought to be a conver- 
 sationalist, but let him be a judicious one. Cromwell and 
 Richelieu controlled the affairs of nations. They were 
 excellent conversers and always obeyed George Herbert's 
 
568 THE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 injunction to " speak fitly or be silently wise." Rothschild 
 is said to be an excellent talker, and tells an anecdote with 
 as keen a relish as an}' inan in the kingdom. 
 
 The business man needs to exercise the same careful 
 wording of his thoughts as does the diplomat ; not such a 
 foiler as Talleyrand, but an honest statesman like Seward. 
 Marlborough's oil}' and gentle words never forsook him, 
 whether at Blenheim with his own raging Sarah, or sooth- 
 ing the ravings of the exiled king. His flowing utterances 
 were the same, whether entertaining potentates, selling gov- 
 ernment patronage, bu}-ing an estate or dictating terms of 
 peace to France. He spoke only soft sentences, but then 
 the great organ minded its stops. 
 
 It is related that DeLeon, who lay for years in the dun- 
 geons of the Inquisition because of his having translated a 
 part of the Scriptures into his native tongue, on being liber- 
 ated and restored to his professorship, was followed to his 
 first lecture by an immense crowd, craving some account of 
 his imprisonment, but DeLeon was too wise to indulge in 
 recrimination. He merely resumed the lecture which, five 
 years before, had been so sadly interrupted, with the accus- 
 tomed formula, " Heri dicebamus," and went directly into 
 his subject. 
 
 Men who speak in haste are their own worst enemies. 
 Like Michael Angelo, their own words become the swords 
 that frighten away patronage, sever friendships, and finally 
 loosen the floods of remorse that embitter all their life. 
 Barry, the painter, quarreled furiously with his patrons, 
 berated his customers for their lack of appreciation, and was 
 involved in endless disputes with other artists. Edmund 
 Burke, that generous friend of struggling merit, wrote to 
 him: " Believe me, dear Barry, that the arms with which 
 
BiTSINESS UABITS. 569 
 
 the ill dispositions of tlie world are to be combated, and the 
 qualities by which it is to be reconciled to us, and we 
 reconciled to it, are moderation, gentleness, a little indul- 
 gence to others, and a great deal of distrust of ourselves; 
 which are not qualities of a mean spirit, as some may possi- 
 bly think them, but virtues of a great and noble kind, and 
 such as dignif}' our nature as much as they contribute to 
 our repose and fortune; for nothing can be so unworthy of 
 a well-composed soul as to pass away life in bickerings and 
 litigations — in snarling and scuffling with every one about 
 us. We must be at peace with our species, if not for their 
 sakes, at least very much for our own." 
 
 Cultivate, then, the " soft answer" that " turneth away 
 wrath " and the pure words that foster chastity of life. 
 Speak the truth with gentleness, for to speak crossly when 
 one is endeavoring to promote his business, is like spoiling 
 an excellent dish by covering it with bad sauce. Burns says, 
 wisely and well: 
 
 " Reader attend — whether thy soul 
 Soars fancy's flight beyond the pole, 
 Or darkling grubs this earthly hole 
 
 In low pursuit; 
 Know prudent, cautious self-control 
 
 Is Wisdom's root." 
 
 The company a man keeps has much to do with his 
 habits. Associates exercise a formative influence on his 
 character. And, whatever his native disposition may be, 
 that trite old maxim, " A man is known b}^ the company he 
 keeps," will assert its truth in the end. Germany had strug- 
 gled in the throes of an incipient reformation before Luther 
 came. He doffed his robes and went down to live with the 
 people. Then it was that his voice rang like a trumpet 
 
570 THE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 throughout German}-, and ever}- German became a stern 
 reformer. 
 
 Dr. Paley was for three yeai-s, at Cambridge, a spendthrift 
 and idler. One morning, after a night's dissipation, an inti- 
 mate friend stood by his bedside. " Paley," said he, " I 
 have not been able to sleep for thinking of you. I have 
 been thinking what a fool you are! / have the means of 
 dissipation, and can afford to be idle; yoii are poor, and can 
 not atibrd it. / could do nothing, probably, even were I to 
 try; you are capable of doing any thing. If you persist in 
 your indolence, and go on this way, I must renounce }our 
 society altogether." Paley afterward confessed that that 
 talk altered his life. He formed new plans; he cultivated 
 better habits, by the assistance of better companions. He 
 left Christ College the senior wrangler, and the world is 
 acquainted with his great career. Old John Brown, of 
 " marching-on " fame, once said to Emerson that, " for a 
 settler in a new countr}', one good believing man is worth a 
 hundred — nay, worth a thousand men without character." 
 Chateaubriand said that one interview with Washington 
 warmed his heart for the rest of his days and poured virtue 
 into his soul. 
 
 A business man can not aftbrd the association of the idle 
 and thriftless. The very men that spend their "oft"" hours 
 and evenings lounging in your shops are the good-natured 
 fellows that are sowing the seeds of bankruptcj; irt your 
 habits. 
 
 "Thou art noble; yet, I see, 
 Th^■ honorable metal may be wrought 
 From that it is disposed. Therefore 't is meet 
 That noble minds keep ever with their likes: 
 For who so firm, that can not be seduced } " 
 
Bl'SINESS HABITS. 571 
 
 Accuracy is essential to business success. Scientific men 
 complain that the}' are often expected to deduce exact 
 truths from inaccurate statements; preachers feel that class- 
 meeting Christians are not always accurate in giving the 
 details of their experience ; lawyers worr}- and cross-question 
 the witnesses to get " just the facts '' in the case. Inaccuracy 
 is a pre\-alent American failing. Americans are not liars as 
 the Chinese are; but, as Linn would say, an x\merican 
 always leaves some of his originality sticking to ever}- thing- 
 he tells. This carelessness is not confined to statement 
 alone. There is a general looseness in the performance of 
 all work. Where is the man that rounds e\'er\- labor up to 
 a perfect completion.'' Accuracy is vital to the scientist, 
 and no less indispensable to the trader and mechanic. 
 Whatever is worth doing at all is worth doing well. The 
 exact business man has a golden virtue. The slovenl}-, slip- 
 shod man loses at every turn, and never learns where the 
 leak is. 
 
 Exactness only comes b}' a willingness to go slow, and to 
 go with an unrelaxing application. The accountant who 
 has habituated himself aright will run a column of figures 
 with a Babbage-like rapidity, and set the amount down with 
 as much confidence as he would four under two and two. 
 The clerk over at the other desk, who has not been trained 
 to accuracy, will cast his column four times, and then stum- 
 ble when he sets down his figures. 
 
 Putictiiality must be cultivated by every seeker after bus- 
 iness success. This virtue, which is the politeness of kings, 
 is essential in every calling, whether lott}' or humble. A 
 punctual man wins the confidence of all who have to do 
 with him. A man whose name on the trader's book is 
 quoted for one thousand dollars, simply h\ meeting every 
 
572 THE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 bill promptly for two years, will have a cheerful credit at his 
 wholesale house for five thousand dollars, although he ma}- 
 not have become worth a dollar more. 
 
 The virtues of a business man are a large share of his 
 capital. Business men look more after a customer's habits 
 than after his estate. They understand commerce to be 
 self-regulating; that, if a trader complies with her laws, he 
 will not be likely to fail; that, if he has honor, capacity and 
 application, there is little need to ask after his wealth; if he 
 possesses these the laws of business inake him trustworthy. 
 Ever}^ year's trade \'ields him satisfactory results. No 
 matter what his other virtues ma}' be, if he lacks punctuality 
 he is on the road to loss of confidence and ultimate failure. 
 Want of punctualit}' saps the foundation of e\'ery good bus- 
 iness habit, and all the redeeming virtues of his character 
 early fall into the train of the leading vice, and the man 
 becomes a dawdler. Coleridge dawdled and failed. While 
 Carthage hugged the delusion of her invincibility, Scipio 
 destroyed her unrecruited army. And had Mark Anthony 
 acted with his usual promptness to duty he would have kept 
 out of Cleopatra's chamber, and the geography of nations 
 would ha^■e been changed. 
 
 A promise to perform a duty at a given hour is a bond on 
 your honor. It is more than a matter of courtesy; it is a 
 matter of conscience. Five minutes late on that appointment 
 breaks one of the strands in the bond of confidence reposed 
 in you; and with a thorough business man it will be difficult 
 ever to tie that strand again. Failing to meet an engage- 
 ment promptly is no light thing. Men recognize it as an in- 
 dex of the character, and the fault must be quickly and well 
 redeemed, or their lack of confidence will soon spread to 
 what the women call dawdling. Your motto must be Hoc 
 
BO'SINESS HABITS. 573 
 
 <7<re. Do instantly whatever is to be done, and take the 
 hours of recreation after business, never before it. When a 
 regiment is under march, the rear is often thrown into con- 
 fusion because the front does not move steadil}' and without 
 interruption. It is the same with business. If that which is 
 first in hand is not instantly, steadily and regularly dis- 
 patched, other things accumulate behind, till atlairs begin to 
 press all at once, and no human brain can stand the con- 
 fusion. 
 
 Every young man starting in life should make it a rule 
 never to be ahead of or behind his business. Let him 
 always keep abreast of it. A man by advertising, by seek- 
 ing for trade, by executing every order precisely on time, 
 may have business pour in on him until he is compelled to 
 enlarge his operations or be overwhelmed. This is well. 
 This is crowding your business. But never let the business 
 crowd you. To be behind with your engagements is much 
 like arriving at the depot about as the train starts. One 
 has a sorry time bustling around and getting aboard. In' 
 the crowded depot of engagements there is generally such a 
 rush of the behind-time men that they get greatly in one 
 another's way. 
 
 Punctuality is in a great degree a matter of habit. If the 
 beginner in business will make it one of the first objects of 
 his acquisition, he will have acquired a power of performing 
 his duties that the dilatory men will always be amazed at. 
 A habit of tardiness will cause endless trouble and vexation. 
 Tardiness, once well established by habit, becomes the most 
 obstinate of vices to overcome. A tardy man always 
 intends to be punctual, but some unforseen thing comes 
 pushing itself along, demanding just a moment's attention, 
 
574 THE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 until, in one way or another, he is always kept late, and, in 
 the hands of his habit, he can not help it. 
 
 Every successful man has a keen sense of the value of 
 time. A man who is not the miser of a minute will never 
 be great. Charles XII, of Sweden, would sooner have 
 parted with a full corps of his little arm}- than have been 
 deprived of his watch. He unsheathed his sword against 
 Russia, whose generals never did know anything about time, 
 and, while the Great Bear was turning round, Charles put 
 her allies to the sword, and proved himself in six weeks the 
 most formidable warrior on the continent. To that hour he 
 had been a dissipated prince. The author of •' Getting On 
 in the World " relates that Bonaparte's marshals, who had 
 been in-\'ited to dine with him on a certain occasion, were 
 ten minutes late. Rising to meet them, the Emperor, who 
 began his dinner as the clock struck, and had finished, said: 
 " Gentlemen, it is now past dinner, and we will immediately 
 proceed to business," whereupon the marshals were obliged 
 to spend the afternoon in planning a campaign on an empty 
 stomach. It is said that the Persians lost the battle of 
 jNIarathon through procrastination. They had sacked Eretria 
 and carried oft" all its booty, and, having efTected a success- 
 ful landing on the plain of Marathon, took a holiday before 
 further action. The one hundred and ten thousand Persians 
 were dressed in all the tinsel of a Sardis festival. Miltiades 
 saw from the heights where he was encamped with his 
 twelve thousand men, that Greece would be lost if not vic- 
 torious that day. He sallied forth with his little host divided 
 into three bodies, and, falling upon the Persians like a tem- 
 pest of fire, routed the revelers, who fled to their ships and 
 hastened from the country. 
 
 Artists and literary men are not always able to control 
 
BUSINESS HABITS. 575 
 
 their time. Artists especially have their moods, when they 
 must take their brush or never. But these men who work 
 only by fits and starts have an engagement with Nature at 
 such hours, and must meet her then, or lose forever the 
 inspiration slie is waiting to give them. Angelo, at such 
 times, would work all night, wearing a taper in his cap, like 
 a coal miner, to give him light. From such spasmodic 
 eftbrts have come his masterpieces. Wagner, the great 
 prince of music, wrote only when the spell was on him. For 
 the sublime works such men execute the world is willing 
 to let them break all the rules of accepted good habits; but 
 it is not permitted to common men to indulge in these 
 freaks. To harbor them is to encourage a course of life 
 that will never accomplish any valuable work. 
 
 Business men do not have to wait for inspiring moods. 
 They are therefore expected to be at their posts on time, 
 and by obeying the call of duty they will soon be filled with 
 love for their work that will goad them on to their fullest 
 activities. The man who is at his bench or desk during 
 every minute of the business hours ; who meets every engage- 
 ment promptly; who meets every bill when due; that man 
 will surely win confidence and custom. 
 
 To the business habits just considered must be added 
 method and dispatch. The man who acts in harmony with 
 the above precepts is not likely to fail in method. He can 
 not be in the yiitl habit of all these and be immethodical. 
 Nevertheless it is well to study method. Cecil, that won- 
 derful dispatcher of business, sa3's: "Method is like packing 
 things in a box; a good packer will get in half as much 
 again as a bad one." Mr. Spurgeon, that prodigious toiler, 
 tells us: " Once all I knew was rolled together confusedl}' 
 as chaos. But now I have a shelf for everything, and all 
 
576 THE GENIUS OP INDUSTRY. 
 
 my knowledge is ticketed away, ready and unencumbered 
 when I call for it." Without s}'stem he could not accomp- 
 lish a tithe of what he is now doing. Experts sa}- that nine- 
 tenths of the bankrupts keep their books and conduct their 
 business without method. This age requires a vast amount 
 of work trom a man before it will permit him to use the 
 word — Success. He, therefore, who would conquer colos- 
 sal results, must not spurn the stepping-stones of system. As 
 well might the climber kick the rounds out of the ladder and 
 persist that he could climb as rapidly by the spaces. 
 
 But a man ma}- possess all the other qualities and fail in 
 dispatch. Confessedly it is not of so great importance to 
 the operator as any of the other virtues named. Yet it is 
 the crowning virtue of a business character. In this age, 
 where there is such a rush and scramble for the honors, 
 though a man possess every other business element, he will 
 be distanced if he fail in this one. Many put through busi- 
 ness with great speed and seemingly accomplish very much. 
 After all it has failed to amount to a great deal. They have 
 a certain kind of quickness that enables them to dispose of 
 matters for the present, but nothing is rounded up and fully 
 completed. 
 
 Genuine dispatch turns off its work with ease; it never 
 wastes any force in sudden spurts of effort; it expedites 
 business by systematic, trained, and skilled use of whatever 
 is necessary, always striking at the right time and in the 
 right place. It is never in a hurr\', and yet it always has its 
 job off the stocks in time. It is the result of experience, 
 close observation, and much pains-taking. 
 
 A habit once formed acts spontaneous!}'. This is the 
 great satisfaction in the formation of good business habits. 
 A few years of assiduous training will serve to make the 
 
BUlSINESS U.IBJTS. 577 
 
 dull routine of business attractive; all the train of duties will 
 fall into line one after another, like soldiers at roll-call, and 
 be taken up in readiness and ease, with scarce a thought. 
 The very habits that are most difficult to acquire, through 
 their obvious unpleasantness, will in the course of time fasten 
 themselves so closely on to nature that they will be per- 
 formed with the facility of instinct. 
 
 It is well known that many who have reached the highest 
 eminence in the law were disgusted with it at first. Lord 
 Eldon, who turned to law under the lash of necessity, said 
 that, having been obliged to sit and hear the long and dry 
 arguments in the land cases of the realm, the task which 
 was so burdensome at first became at last so entertaining 
 that he preferred such a case to a seat at the Lord Mayor's 
 banquet. Did not speech-making, at first so offensive to 
 Webster, become his greatest pleasure.? Did not verse- 
 making, so irksome to Cowper in his early years, become 
 in time the very boon of his existence.? Oiil}' iri the joys of 
 composition was he able to clear away the cloud of melan- 
 choly that hung over his mind with such awful consequen- 
 ces. 
 
 Habit, we conclude, has much to do with life. On a 
 few habits, thoughtlessly formed; may hang all our subse- 
 quent destiny. Profoundly important is it that good habits 
 be formed in early years. At that time, when the evil days 
 are not, they are easily formed, and once established, they 
 are a fortune of themselves. If j-ou propose to reform and 
 put on new habits at thirty, it will be necessary to add to 
 your resolution courage, besides all the will-power you pos- 
 sess. However quiet the habit may have appeared up to 
 this time, the introduction of a rival in the household is 
 something like filling upon a lion. It cannot be driven from 
 
578 THE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 its lair in one combat. By patient, steady and persevering 
 etTort you may conquer. Habit once grafted into the 
 nature does not simpl}^ bear its own fruit, but transfuses its 
 spirit into the body, and colors all the fruit on the tree of 
 life. 
 
 Some scientists affirm that the animal instinct is inherited 
 experience. The Duke of Argyle has written an able essay 
 to support the contrary, but is compelled to admit that the 
 habits of the parents transmit a tendency to their offspring. 
 The ruling habit of the life haunts the body after death. 
 [Does it not attend the soul through the changeless eons?] 
 Dr. Rainyer tells of a lad}', a confirmed snuff-taker, to whom 
 having suddenly died, the battery was applied with faint 
 hopes of resuscitating life. Her right hand fumbled for a 
 moment at the dres§ belt, where she usually carried a snutf"- 
 pouch, and then flew to her nose, which she " tickled," 
 sniffing in a startlingly natural manner; she then gave an 
 heroic sneeze, opened her e3'es, and smiled in a satisfied 
 way. Then her disturbed features relaxed into their cold 
 and marble form. 
 
 Obtain all the information you can; add to this your own 
 experience, and then, in your wisdom, select a "race of 
 habits " which harmonize with your tastes and business, 
 giving yourself wholly unto them. Paro.X3^sms of attention 
 will not secure results. Steadfastl}' and unalterably let the 
 driver of method, concentration, punctuality, honesty, ac- 
 curacy, sobriety, and dispatch, fall in precisely the same 
 way in each repeated performance, and in a few years they 
 will be so wedded to nature that their action will be pleas- 
 ant and spontaneous; and the final outcome thereof will be 
 a successful business man. 
 
ufni4^ ]\m%t^5 
 
mm^?> vrnv^m^f- 
 
 "Any man who desires to succeed must not only be industrious: he must 
 love to be a drudge." 
 
 'Tis all men's office to speak patience 
 
 To those that wring under the load of sorrow. 
 
 ^JSUich Ado About Nothing. 
 
l.(m >.%.,. 
 
 H! there be souls none understand; 
 Like clouds, they can not touch the land, 
 Drive as they may by field or town. 
 Then we look wise at this and frown, 
 
 And we Ay, " Fool," and cry, " Take hold 
 
 Of earth, and fashion gods of gold." 
 
 Unanchored ships, they blow and blow, 
 Sail to and fro, and then go down 
 In unknown seas, that none shall know, 
 Without one ripple of renown: 
 Poor drifting dreamers, sailing by. 
 They seem to only live to die. 
 >- — The Ship tn the Desert. 
 
 These sea-blown souls are excellent subjects for poetic 
 eftlisions; but this utilitarian age has little use lor men who 
 drift about rudderless, ignorant of their position and the 
 bearings of their destined port. It demands men who are 
 ready and apt to seize the helm of action. The excuse 
 made for these men is that, having lofty conceptions, they 
 live in a higher atmosphere than ours, and can hardly be 
 measured by our rule. B}' what rule are they to be meas- 
 
 ss. 
 
582 THE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 ured? That they have a constant reaching after some- 
 thing grand no one will wish to dispute; but they discover 
 no chasm Ij'ing between conception and achie\-ement. The}' 
 seem to know nothing of the means to be operated, from the 
 time that desire forms until the coveted end is reached. 
 They assume the end to be attainable in the next instant 
 after its conception. 
 
 When they descend to the drudger}' of working out the 
 scheme; when the ignoble toil begins; when the unending 
 minutiae of interests must be operated without appreciable 
 results; when competitions are to be met and overcome; 
 when trifles are to be dealt with like problems of life, and 
 jackdaws are to be treated like princes; when common 
 sense taps one on the shoulder, hinting that great results can 
 never come out of such piddling; when the enthusiasm is 
 beginning to die away and the mind begips to realize that 
 there is a distance between conception and attainment — 
 then it is these soarers turn awa}' disgusted with the con- 
 cerns of earth. 
 
 The knights of Utopia are of little practical worth in the 
 engagements of life. Don Quixote thought he could make 
 beautiful bird-cages and tooth-picks if his brain was not so 
 full of other ideas. A scheme is useless, no matter how,? 
 brilliant it may be, if it fails to operate. ji 
 
 W. W. Linn tells an anecdote of Col. E. D. Baker, 
 which, although it comes from the gambler's den, illustrates 
 the rock on which his genius foundered, and on which so 
 many others have gone down: "Senator Baker, at one 
 time greatly given to gambling, had lost much mone}' at a 
 certain faro bank in San Francisco. He sought for weeks 
 for a scheme by which he could break the bank. At last 
 he conceived one that would do it, and put a cool million in 
 
BUi>INE.:;i> DRUDGERY. 583 
 
 his pocket. He grew so nervous in contemplation of tlie 
 vast wealth he was to win that it become e\ident that he 
 would not have the necessary self-control to manipulate the 
 scheme. So he sought out a certain eminent lawyer, the 
 lank, cool-headed Col. L., who, if necessary, could scuttle a 
 ship or cut a throat and never know a tremor. The 
 Colonel saw ' millions in it.' They drew ten thousand dol- 
 lars apiece and started for the 'tiger.' 
 
 " All night they pla3'ed, and sometimes lost. All day 
 they played, and sometimes won. The following evening 
 they ' bucked ' their last thousand, and the ferocious mon- 
 ster gulped it down, then sat and smiled serenely on the 
 pluck)- but penniless planners. As they pushed out into the 
 dim lamplight of Bay Street, Baker said, ' Colonel, that was 
 a splendid plan and it was executed just right. Why didn't 
 it win? ' ' It was a most imposing plan,' replied the Colonel, 
 * why it didn't succeed I don't know, but I do knoru that we 
 are two of the damnedest fools in San Francisco.' " 
 
 Another class of men fail because they will not engage in 
 the details which the execution of any important work 
 demands. All the interests of life hang on petty circum- 
 stances. Life is made up of small things. It is hurtful to 
 allow our ordinary occasions to be swallowed up by the 
 extraordinary ones. If you were endeavoring to stock a 
 fish pond, would you consent that the larger fish should 
 devour the lesser ones.'' Does a stock-man, who must pre- 
 serve an annual growth, suffer his small pigs to be trampled 
 to death by the cattle.'' 
 
 We are often ignorant of the events we think we under- 
 stand. What seem to us small things are the hinges on 
 which our mightiest movements turn. The size of any 
 thing is no index of its importance. It is the place it fills as 
 
584 THE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 a link in a chain of circumstances, or a wall of works, that 
 gives it its ^•alue. A pigeon's wing is a small and light 
 affair, looked at b}- itself, but when it outstrips a locomotive 
 in bearing a death-message to a friend, it becomes signifi- 
 cant. 
 
 All successful men have been noted for their attention to 
 details. It has only been through a kind of omniscient vig- 
 ilance over things small as well as great that they have been 
 able to rise. A. T. Stewart once reproved a clerk for 
 wrapping the twine around a bundle once oftener than was 
 necessary. Twenty 3'ears made Bishop Butler's Analogy 
 the work it is. Twenty years made Gibbon's Decline and 
 Fall immortal. Forty years made Dr. Adam Clark's Com- 
 mentaries the authorit}' for the Methodist Church, and fifty 
 years made Kant's Metaphj'sics a success. 
 
 . The literary works that will live through the ages were 
 not dashed off in a single night. Did not Isaac Newton 
 re-write his Chronology seventeen times.'' Did not Bembo 
 re-write his Essays thirty times.'' Did not Moliere pass 
 whole days in fixing upon a proper epithet for rh3'me.^ Did 
 not Lord Macaulay bestow " incredible " labor on his Essays 
 and History.'' Did not Shelle}' put his manuscript through 
 such a course of criticism that, like Tasso's, they were so full 
 of blots and interlineations as to be scarcely decipherable? 
 Gray's Elegy took fourteen years in reaching its final revi- 
 sion. These men would not let one word stand unless i' 
 exactly expressed the desired thought. No drudgery of 
 erasing, interlining, re-writing, and re-casting was too great. 
 Their end was perfection, and filing and polishing were their 
 means of attaining it. 
 
 The author of " A Peep into Li terar}' Workshops " says: 
 " Campbell was so scrupulously fastidious as to nicety of 
 
BUSINESS DUUDGERY. 5S5 
 
 expression, that, in ridicule of the rareness and difficulty of 
 his literary parturition, especially when the oflspring of his 
 throes was poetical, one of his waggish friends used gravely 
 to assert that on passing his residence when he was writing 
 Theodoric, he observed that the knocker was tied up, and 
 the street in front of the house covered with straw. 
 Alarmed at these appearances, he gentl}' rang the bell, and 
 inquired anxiousl}' after the poet's health. ' Thank you. 
 Sir,' was the servant's repl)-, ' INIaster is doing as well as can 
 be expected.' ' Good heavens! as well as can be expected! 
 What has happened to him.? ' ' Why, sir, he was this morn- 
 ing delivered of a couplet!' " 
 
 The man whose voice can be heard on one side of every 
 case in the court-room, has not won his practice b}' the 
 electric force of a wish; he has won it by an immense love 
 of details that has carried him into every nook of his client's 
 cause, and through every must}' record, until he is better 
 acquainted with the " ifs " and " ands " used during the 
 quarrel than the plaintiff and defendant, and knows every 
 decision for a hundred years that touches on the case. 
 When Rufus Choate had a case of importance, his mar\el- 
 ous powers never stopped on its general features. He 
 ferreted out each slight word of testimony to know if it 
 came from real knowledge; he pursued every law point that 
 was against him, back to the time of its enactment, and 
 sought to become acquainted with the circumstances that 
 surrounded the legislators at the time. His mind dwelt 
 upon it while he ate, and when the weary body caught a 
 moment's sleep, the soul received inspirations concerning it. 
 The minutia; lay in his mind like old wheat in the mill; it 
 was to be put between the upper and nether millstones for 
 the life of his client. He bound up the shreds of little things 
 
586 THE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 into a cable that could not be broken. Pale and haggard 
 he went to the court-room, borne down by his infinite knowl- 
 edge. He seldom lost his case. A great lawyer said: 
 " Choate ought to win, for he goes through more drudgery 
 for success than any man at the bar." When we see the 
 unremitting toil of Brougham, the intense application of 
 Webster, the patient investigation of Binne-s', the determina- 
 tion of Langdale, we conclude that success in law rests 
 largely in mastering details. 
 
 " A profession " carries to many minds the idea of luxury 
 and ease. " A business " carries the idea of something to 
 be done. They seem to think that in " business " alone is there 
 work to be done. In the wise economy of nature there is 
 work everywhere. That professional inan who does not 
 regard his calling as a business will ne\er make a success. 
 There is no freedom from toil in an}- pursuit if \ou would 
 become distinguished in it. Harriet Ilosmer, standing with 
 chisel and mallet in hand over unhewn marble, has a busi- 
 ness as real and as toilsome as the man who blr.sts stones 
 out of the quarry. Instead of being permitted to use pow- 
 der and drills and sledges to bring about results, she must 
 use a hair chisel, and cut the marble by breath-blown chips, 
 until its flinty face shall rival the expression of life. 
 
 Even Angelo, who turned stone into statuary as if by 
 magic, could not leave the e}-e until he had put upon it ten 
 thousand strokes. Raphael spent da3's bringing to perfection 
 the lips of the Madonna. The combined expression of love, 
 fidelity and terror in Rizpah's face was only wrought on 
 canvas from the artist's conception after months of patient 
 effort. Murillo nursed the foot of his portrait, dressing it 
 over and over again, long after other painters would have 
 pronounced it perfect. It is this conscientious and laborious 
 
BUSINESS DRUDOERY. 587 
 
 attention to details that thus distinguishes the world's 
 masterpieces from its cheap performances. 
 
 The mere love of money is not incentive enough to make 
 a man thoroughly finish any work A soul-love is necessary 
 to give that artistic completion which alone wins enduring 
 applause. Any thing short of this, no matter how much or 
 little pay there is in it, is to be characterized as mercenary 
 and sordid. West sold many of his pictures at starving 
 prices, yet he never slighted his pieces because they were 
 humple in design. He thought only of bringing the picture 
 up to an exalted standard, not of the dollars he was to get. 
 
 Which is the orator, whose eloquence rings in the ears of 
 nations for a dozen rounding centuries.'' Not he, surely, who 
 depends solely on the inspiration of the audience and the 
 hour to produce such magic influence! It is. the man 
 that learns to breathe aright; that studies pronounciation 
 and accentuation; that practices emphasis and inflec- 
 tion; that studies the movement of bod}', arm, e3^e, and 
 face; that trains his voice; that throws CNsery word out 
 from the depth of his soul; that studies men and measures, 
 that pores over authors; that translates the beauties of every 
 language into his mother tongue; that sees the wrong and 
 has a courage to confess it; that marks an enemy and is 
 bold enough to denounce him — such are some of the quali- 
 fications — such a portion of the mighty preparation under- 
 gone by ^Eschines, Demosthenes, Brougham, Cla}', and 
 others, before they began to accomplish results and win un- 
 dying fame. 
 
 While Cicero's rivals were spending their time in waggery, 
 he was driving out the d3'spepsia with dumb-bells aqd hori- 
 zontal bars, and assiduously breaking the habit of a " down- 
 casteye." While the lords of the realm were snug in cozy 
 
588 THE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 beds, Pitt was studying precedents and practicing gesture. 
 Calhoun's competitors at college, who spent their time in 
 " society," went out to the common walks of life; he, the thin- 
 ■visagad recluse, went to cross lances with the knights of the 
 Senate chamber. 
 
 It has been said that genius is only a protracted patience. 
 It takes this and tireless energy to operate successfully all the 
 minutiee in any calling of importance. Louis XIV said: 
 "Kings govern by toil." The man who falters over labori- 
 ous details fails to possess one element that ever}' success- 
 ful man possesses in abundance. It is not eminent talent 
 that is required to insure success in any pursuit, so much as 
 purpose — not merely the power to achieve, but the will to 
 labor energetically, and perseveringly pursue each minor 
 interest to its full completion. This will accomplish more 
 than genius, and enable a man to force his way through irk- 
 some drudgery and dry details to the glorious satisfaction of 
 a perfect performance. Fowell Buxton, " the inaster of im- 
 mense details," placed his confidence in ordinary means 
 and extraordinary application. He attributed his success to 
 " being a whole man to one thing at a time." " In life," said 
 Ary Scheffer, " nothing bears fruit except by labor of mind 
 or body. To strive and still strive — such is life; and in this 
 respect mine is fulfilled; but I dare to say, with just pride, 
 that nothing has ever shaken my courage. With a strong 
 soul, and a noble aim, one can do what one wills, morally 
 speaking." 
 
 Napoleon's watchword was " Glory." Nelson went into 
 battle with a much better one — " Duty." Glory strikes for 
 general results, taking little consideration of the means, and 
 will sooner or later come to ruin. Duty looks at the \'alue of 
 the woi-k to be accomplished, and conscientiously perfects 
 
BUSINESS DRUDGERT. 589 
 
 ever}' insignificant detail. When did the world ever see 
 such a career as that of William Pitt? He took the hehii of 
 England and held her prow straight to her honor and his great- 
 ness, during a period of twenty-five years, surrounded by com- 
 petition, jealousies, and intrigues, more powerful than ever 
 existed against any former Prime Minister. We see him, 
 " neglecting every thing else — careless of friends; careless of 
 expenditures, so that with an income of fifty thousand dollars 
 yearly, and no family, he died hopelessly in debt ; tearing up 
 by the roots from his heart a lo\e most deep and tender, 
 because it ran counter to his ambition; totall}' indifferent to 
 posthumous fame, so that he did not take the pains to trans- 
 mit to posterity a single one of his speeches; utterly insensible 
 to the claims of art, literature, and beUe-leUres ; living and 
 working terribly for the one sole purpose of wielding the gov- 
 erning power of the nation." His soul was swallowed up by 
 this one passion. 
 
 The energies of his mighty intellect were concentrated on 
 the one aim. He did nothing by halves. He knew every 
 movement of the foreign powers, and was advised of the char- 
 acter and habits of every officer in the empire. He knew 
 the effect of every statute, the condition of every military 
 post, the condition of the crops, and what legislation was 
 needed for each locality. He seemed never to sleep; his 
 senses were always wide awake, and he never forgot any 
 thing. His knowledge so penetrated every nook of the 
 nation's interest it seemed omniscient. His contemporaries 
 called him a heaven-born statesman. 
 
 One can get too deep into drudgery sometimes, like the 
 old sea captain who, when there was nothing else for the 
 sailors to do, put them to scrubbing the anchor. A farmer 
 can get up at his da3''s work too earl}-; a merchant can re-ar- 
 
590 THE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 range and dust his goods too often; a carpenter can drive a 
 nail in too far to do the most good; a speaker can change, 
 amend and polish his speeches, as Canning did, until he nearly 
 polishes away the original spirit — yet it is scarcely worth the 
 time to drop such a hint in America. Here we have orators 
 by the multitude who "run at the mouth" through every 
 political campaign, but were never known to utter a new idea 
 or polish an old sentence. Here carpenters do well if they 
 get the nails in at all; merchants have no time to re-arrange 
 and dust goods, lor planning how to sell; and farmers no 
 longer get up too early, when they go on riding-plows and 
 tend forty acres of corn to the man. 
 
 But there are those who wear themselves out in a menial 
 sort of way, not b}' ox^erdoing any thing that ought to be 
 done, but by undertaking many more things than they 
 are able to do. Details are not injurious unless the work 
 itself is too great. Our peep into workshops has not prepos- 
 sessed us in favor of one person having many undertakings. 
 Nor are w'e convinced that they can long throw off" work 
 rapidly and well. Even the varied powers of De Vinci never 
 did more than one thing well. Race-horse speed at work 
 is only skimming over the surface of things. Business dis- 
 patch is a great attainment, but it is a failure if made at the 
 cost of correctness or a waste of power. 
 
 The Duke of Wellington had a prodigious ability for bus- 
 iness affairs. As a military chieftain alone, he could never 
 have won his splendid success. The vast and daring plans 
 of Bonaparte would have been visionary schemes to him. 
 Without a vivid imagination, without being able to look 
 along extended lines of action, without any of the dashing 
 qualities that signalized the campaigns of Csesar and Hanni- 
 bal, he gained his triumphs by patient toil and never neglect- 
 
BUSINESS DRUDGERY. 591 
 
 tng^ any thing. He trusted nothing to subordinates. Noth- 
 ing was of too little iinportance for his attention, if it was 
 connected .with the comfort of his men. He understood the 
 commissariat of ships, muskets and men, of artillery, over- 
 coats and provisions. He knew as much about the bacon 
 and shoes of each corps as he did about the number of men 
 he had and their arrangement for the next battle. 
 
 We find him at Lisbon, when food was not to be obtained 
 fi'om home, creating commissariat bills, and filling his mag- 
 azines from the Mediterranean and South American ports. 
 He did what England could not do, victualed his army, and 
 the surplus he profitably sold to the needy Portuguese. He 
 ordered the soldiers' shoes, showed how the low square heel 
 should be made, inspected camp-kettles, smelled the flour to 
 see if it was moldy, and bought horse-fodder. He issued an 
 order directing the precise manner in which the soldiers 
 should cook their provisions, and specified the exact speed 
 at which the bullocks were to be driven. " A friend said 
 to him, ' It seems to me, Duke, that your chief business in 
 India was to procure rice and bullocks.' ' 'And so it was,' 
 replied Wellington, ' for if I had rice and bullocks, I had 
 men, and if I had men I knew I could beat the enemy.' " 
 
 Not only did Wellington personally superintend the vast 
 details which gathered about the comfort and success of his 
 great army, but he also performed the full work of a states- 
 man. One of his ablest dispatches to Lord Clive, concern- 
 ing the government's interests and the conducting of their 
 present campaign, was written while the column he com- 
 manded was crossing the Toombuddra, in the face of a 
 vastly superior army on the opposite bank, and while a 
 thousand matters of deepest interest were pressing on his 
 mind. Napier says that " it was while he was preparing to 
 
592 TEE GENIUS OF INBUSTBT. 
 
 fight the battle of Salamanca that he had to expose to the 
 ministers at home the futilit}- of relying upon a loan; it was 
 on the heights of San Christoval, on the field of battle 
 itself, that he demonstrated the absurdity- of attempting to 
 establish a Portuguese bank; it was in the trenches of 
 Burgos that he dissected Funchal's scheme of finance, and 
 exposed the foil}' of attempting the sale of church property. 
 He showed himself to be as fully posted on tliese subjects as 
 with the minutest details in his arm}-." The range of his 
 knowledge was as \ast and minute as the interests of the 
 great people whose history he was creating. Largely owing 
 to his practical talent and his extraordinary abilit\- of know- 
 ing and controUing the minutest details, did he win his 
 splendid victories and achieve the solitary distinction of 
 never losing a battle. 
 
 The princes in trading pursuits have won their spurs by 
 ceaseless toil. The merchant who banks a million did not 
 secure it by a lofty speculation, or by indifference to small 
 things, but by the patient accretions of close economy ; by 
 watching the clerks and the market; b}- working ofl" the 
 remnants and working in the odds and ends of time; by 
 close collections and prompt payments, thereby securing 
 good discounts on cash ; by studying the wants of his cus- 
 tomers as to thread and ribbons, ties and trinkets; b}' 
 studying branches of trade carefull}", and so informing him- 
 self as to what is going on and what is to be had; by 
 scanning time-tables and freight-bill, and so economizing 
 time, distance and dollars. Ten thousand purchases were 
 made; ten thousand times goods were shown without any 
 sales being secured ; and twice ten thousand seeming trifles, 
 that clerks neglected, were attended to by him before he 
 put that million in bank. 
 
BUSINESS DRUDGE ET. 593 
 
 While others sat in easy chairs, reading the papers to 
 learn what men were elected to office, and who had 
 married and died, he ransacked the market tables to find an 
 article a customer had inquired after. He has been clerk, 
 cashier, book-keeper and bu3'er by turns; he has been over- 
 reached in purchasing stocks, defrauded by assistants, 
 betrayed by confidential employees, abused by his competi- 
 tors, and insulted by his customers. He has been charged 
 with giving short measure, selling auction goods, and being 
 on the verge of bankruptcy. He has been taking stock and 
 balancing up the accounts of the year, while others were at 
 the seaside. He has brooded over the needs of his custom- 
 ers for the next season as a physician does over the conval- 
 escence of a patient. He has familiarized himself with every 
 new style in the market, studied the career of every 
 successful tradesman, and taken into consideration the 
 causes that led to the downfall of every bankrupt. He has 
 told no man of his losses, said but little about his gains, 
 pocketed reverses with a smile, acted the gentleman with all 
 the world, kept his wits at his fingers' end, and now he is 
 rich. All his competitors shut their e3'es to his sagacit}^ 
 earned by study and experience, his rigid economy and tire- 
 less devotion to business, and say, " He has been surrounded 
 by happy circumstances, and every thing his fingers touched 
 has turned to gold." 
 
 We come back, after a look over the field of successful 
 men in these pursuits, profoundly convinced that there is no 
 genuine success without great labor. For every success — 
 happiness, wealth, fame — a just equivalent vcwxsX. be rendered. 
 " There is a silent law," saj's Mr. Beecher, "of which men 
 iire mostly unconscious, that works' incessantly in human 
 affairs and infallibly determines results. It may be called 
 
59J: THE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 the law of industrial cqui\alents. In the great strife of com- 
 mercial life, the gains which men seem to make without 
 having rendered for them a fair equivalent in some shape, of 
 work, skill, thought, or other valuable qualit}', will not build 
 them up. To do one an}- good, riches must be earned. We 
 must render a fair equivalent of service for every hundred 
 dollars." So in all other conditions of human effort, success 
 has its price. It is a fair law of give and take. You can 
 only reap as }'ou ha\'e sowed. 
 
 In every calling the men who have attained eminence 
 have been laborious toilers. A narrow mind despises 
 minute particulars, and a weak intellect spurns little things. 
 But men whom nature has marshaled for victory never 
 think of minutiae as a trifle. Somehow, without reasoning 
 why, they devote the same reverential service to the minute 
 particulars that they do to the master-strokes of their 
 schemes. Experience has decided that there is no royal 
 road to the height of great achievement. It is only reached 
 after a weary march through mud, and din, and toil. And 
 it is only kept while 3'ou keep " marching on." Remember, 
 therefore, if 3'ou would win, to be at your post early and 
 late ; that the whole is made up of details, and that all are 
 truly of equal importance. Cultivate the lofty conceptions 
 of a Titian, and work like a horse. The Bishop of Exeter 
 said: "Of all work that produces results, nine-tenths must 
 be drudgery." 
 
^ ♦ 
 
 •^U4> 
 
^. y. STi;^^HT- 
 
 Seek not proud riches; but such as thou mayest get justly, use soberly, 
 distribute cheerfully, and leave contentedly; yet have no abstract or fnarly con- 
 tempt of them. — Bacon. 
 
 Never treat monev affairs with levity— money is character. — Lord l^yiton. 
 
 Not for to hide it in a hedge. 
 
 Nor for a train attendant. 
 But for the glorious privilege 
 
 Of being independent. — Burns. 
 
CO]MMERCIAL life has come to be recognized as 
 a game of chance, and the man who can die before 
 he bankrupts is considered fortunate. The mer- 
 cantile failures in our land have steadily increased for fifty 
 3-ears, until the business registers are scarcely able to show 
 a man who has stood unshaken for thirty years. In the 
 cities, the great army of failures is being recruited to an 
 alarming extent from the young business men. The 
 majority of our city merchants go to the wall earl}' in life. 
 Few people realize the extent to which this epidemic reaches, 
 for they fall one by one, making all manner of excuses to 
 keep up appearances'; or, under the assumption of changing 
 business, they drop out of the channel; the great rushing 
 current throws another member into the vacant place, and 
 the tides of commerce roll on all the same to the world. 
 But to the one that failed it is a serious matter. The little 
 that he had is swept away, his energies are impaired, and 
 his plans and hopes are scattered. Some one has said that 
 the best temperament for a business man is a compound of 
 the '' desponding and resolute; or, as I had better express 
 it, of the apprehensive and the resolute. Such is the tem- 
 perament of great commanders; secretly, they rely upon 
 
598 THE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 nothing and nobod}*. There is such a powerful element of 
 failure in all human affairs, that a shrewd man is always 
 saying to himself: ' What shall I do, if that which I count 
 upon does not come out as I expect? ' This foresight dwarfs 
 and crushes all but men of great resolution." 
 
 Sagacity and resolution are absolutely demanded in the 
 business man; for, manage however well he may, there are 
 times when these reserve forces will be needed to save him 
 from disaster. But' a large share of the disasters falling 
 upon our mercantile class could be averted if the business 
 man had not gi\en himself up to an overweening ambition 
 to monopolize all the branches of trade. Ralston was a 
 banker, a miner, a railroad builder, a speculator, and an 
 entertainer. The hopeless complications of his business led 
 him to suicide. There are but few Napoleons, and when- 
 ever a man finds he can do one thing well, it will be well 
 for him if he can be content to stand b}' that solitary thing. 
 Tlie following, from one of our journals, is wholesome: 
 "An acquaintance, a seed-dealer, stated that fo'- the first 
 five years he could not ascertain that he made anything. 
 But he was learning. Before ten years, he was clearing five 
 thousand dollars per year. Another ' was doing well in 
 manufacturing ropes. But he was unstable in mind, and, 
 although his friends advised him to ' hang to the ropes,' he 
 was not getting rich fast enough; so he meddled with busi- 
 ness he had not learned sufficiently — bought a mill, bought 
 grain, and then broke a bank by his large failure. Some 
 farmers come to the conclusion that cows are the most 
 profitable; purchase animals, erect buildings, and begin 
 well. But, it being a new business, they do not succeed as 
 they expected; they might, if they would stick to it. The 
 next year they sell their dairy and buy sheep. The price 
 
A. T. STEWART. ■ 599 
 
 of wool is low that year, and they hear that much money 
 has been made by raising tobacco. Thus they go on, 
 changing from one thing to another, and never succeeding 
 at all. Stick to your business." 
 
 But, by far the greatest cause of mercantile failures is a 
 lack of genuine moral character in the trader. Most men 
 understand their business. They are masters of it. They 
 know how to conduct it in a straightforward and thorough 
 manner, but they are not content to drudge along on the 
 old plane of fairness and truthfulness. They want to get to 
 fortune by a cross-cut. In their haste to get on they sacri- 
 fice moral character and ultimate results for present success. 
 It is starcely possible to paint in too high colors the artifices 
 that are habitually resorted to by our tradespeople. So 
 habitually are they exercised that the public have come to 
 consider them as a part of business, and tradesmen have 
 come to look upon them as a part of their legitimate and 
 necessary capital. The success of every eminent shop- 
 keeper is a standing refutation of this privileged misrepre- 
 sentation of goods and business. 
 
 We have taken A. T. Stewart as the model tradesman 
 for this chapter on merchandising. In the career of this 
 man, who landed in America an Irish emigrant, with a few 
 hundred dollars in his pocket, and his character in his breast, 
 we find exemplified the originality of aims and methods, 
 economy, sagacity, honesty and truthfulness. It has been 
 urged that in the career of Mr, Stewart is to be found a 
 denial of the doctrine of natural predilection for some busi- 
 ness. It is true that, at school, his relish was for the classics, 
 and that to the close of his life he displayed a fondness for 
 certain classical studies. But it is also true that Mr. Stewart 
 loved his own convenience and pleasure supremely, and that 
 
600 ■ THE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 with his large fortune he could have retired at titty and 
 have pursued his favorite studies. That he did not, but 
 continued to direct his vast business in person to the last 
 month of his life, and then provided for the perpetuation of 
 that business, is surely conclusive that, though schools may 
 have afforded him a pleasant pastime yet the supreme man 
 was in the business.* 
 
 Mr. Stewart like man}- others, began business on a small 
 scale, content to drudge and wait until such time as fortune 
 should requite him for his toil. His motto was, " Heaven 
 helps those who help themselves." We find him making 
 his start in a small retail dry goods store in New York, but 
 doing nothing extraordinary until he had attained his major- 
 ity. He then sailed for Ireland to secure a patrimony of 
 one thousand pounds, which he invested in " insertions " and 
 " scollop-trimmings," bringing them to America with him on 
 his return. With these notions he made his little display at 
 No. 283 Broadway, making quick sales and good profits. 
 
 We now pass over a number of arduous years, merely 
 noting his tact. Then, as now, there were constant auction 
 sales in the city. These he always attended. His penchant 
 was for " sample lots," which he purchased and conveyed to 
 his store, where, with the aid of his wife, he pressed and 
 dressed them out as good as new. Then the motlc}- articles 
 were classified and shelved, or hung out in the proudest ar- 
 ray. As his invariable custom was to buy and sell for cash, 
 he was alwa3's ready for a bargain. B}- sticking to his 
 ready money principle, he was enabled to grant the very 
 best terms to those who purchased of him. 
 
 A celebrated painter says no one can draw a tree without 
 
 *The author's failing health demanded a release from work at this pointy and Prof. Monser 
 kindly came to his assistance and completed the chapter. 
 
A. T. STEWART. 601 
 
 in some sense becoming a tree. Tlius was it witli A. T. 
 Stewart in business. He was business personified. With 
 him it was business within and business without, till it shook 
 oft" Hke dust from his \-er3' tread. His eye caught ever}- 
 thing. He was familiar with every detail. He went to his 
 business with the constancy of a prisoner in a tread-mill. 
 Time with him was a factor as valuable as to an astronomer 
 in calculating an eclipse. Every moment was golden, and 
 he allowed none to slip through his fingers. 
 
 He was also the embodiment of precision. Each article 
 had its place. He could go to any part of his store in the 
 dark, and put his hand at once on the goods he wanted. 
 One of the secrets of his success was his accurac}'. He was 
 as particular in adjusting his transactions as a mathematician 
 is in giving form and distance to his curves and angles. A 
 place for everything, and a time for every action, was an 
 economy that became security for wealth. 
 
 He was prescient. Ever watchful of the markets, his 
 keen sagacity enabled him to prepare for those trade-storms 
 which sweep over country and cities with such width and 
 power. It was on such an occasion that he originated that 
 now almost universal custom of marking goods "at cost," 
 and forcing them on the market. When hard times set in, 
 many were glad to avail themselves of " Stewart's bar- 
 gains." Others, less knowing and less cautious, were com- 
 pelled to sell at auction, so as to obtain ready money. 
 Stewart always had that ready money to spare, and by 
 attending these sales, he could so supply himself as to still 
 sell at cost and realize forty per cent. At one time, it is 
 said,^ he purchased fifty thousand dollars worth of silks in 
 this way, sold the whole lot in a few days, and realized on 
 them a profit of twenty thousand dollars. 
 
602 TUE GAWIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 Another instance of his prescience was the erection of his 
 retail store. A quarter of a century since he foresaw the 
 change of business to new localities, and purchased a piece 
 of propert}' far awa}' up town. His friends were astonished 
 at his boldness, and reasoned the case with him, but he told 
 them a few years would be sufficient to vindicate his action. 
 The New York sight-seer now finds A. T. Stewart's block 
 in the center of one of the most thriving portions of the 
 cit}-. He exhibited a great deal of shrewdness, also, in 
 preparing himself for the change of affairs brought about 
 by our own war. Knowing there would be a great demand 
 for clothing and blankets, he bought the materials in all 
 directions, making a profit of many millions in his trans- 
 actions with the government, though alwa3's possessing a 
 patriotism that preserved his liberality with the nation. 
 
 He foresaw, too, that cottons would appreciate largely in 
 value, and made such immense purchases as to be able 
 substantially to control the market for years. His net bus- 
 iness profits for the next year he returned at over four 
 millions of dollars. 
 
 It was one of his marked habits to avoid the use of other 
 men's capital in building up his business. What he could 
 not accomplish with his own earnings, he bravely left alone. 
 Beecher says: " No blister draws sharper than interest does. 
 Of all industries none is comparable to that of interest. It 
 works all day and all night, in fair weather and foul. It has" 
 no sound in its footsteps, but travels fast. It gnaws at a 
 man's substance with invisible teeth. It binds industry with 
 its film, as a fly is bound in a spider's web. Debts roll a 
 man over and over, binding hand and foot, and letting him 
 hang upon the fatal mesh until the long-legged interest 
 devours him." We know of a city in the West in which 
 
A. T. 8TEWABT. 603 
 
 business men almost the entire length of its most vigorous 
 street rely on the mercies of three plethoric banks. They 
 run their business on sixty-day paper almost wholly, and 
 such a worry and scramble to make ends meet and win 
 victory out of a defeat you never witnessed. It is said that 
 "where the carcass is, there the eagles do gather." That 
 Western would-be metropolis contains more administrators 
 than any town we know of. 
 
 Mr. Stewart was rigidly economical. Without this, for- 
 tune is a fickle, delusive thing. Econom}" is the ground- 
 work of independence; it is the parent of temperance and 
 health, and the sister of thrift. Too many sing with Bishop 
 
 Still — 
 
 " Back and side, go bare, go bare; 
 Both foot and hand go cold; 
 But belly, God send thee good ale enough. 
 Whether it be new or old." 
 Such persons proceed upon the Epicurean maxim, "Let 
 us eat, drink, and be merry, for to-morrow we die," and ver- 
 ify it most exactly to the end. To-morrow was the time 
 Stewart hoped and expected to live. But he knew what 
 must be done, and what resisted, if he would succeed. Econ- 
 omy, to him, was neither an infliction nor an affliction; it was 
 a necessary, but chosen, element of his being. lie looked 
 upon waste as a sin; he would almost as soon ha\"e thought 
 of robbing a man as of squandering his hard earnings. I lence 
 he never speculated or gambled. What he expended was 
 done by clear, square computations. E\-ery matter was 
 weighed on the scales before it w^as engaged in; e\-er}- thing- 
 was balanced, pro and contra, before it went out of his hands. 
 He kept a cool head, an inflexible will, a tenacious grip on 
 his business, a temperate desire, and a legitimate purpose 
 ever before him. 
 
604 THE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 As he acquired means, he laid it out in substantial invest- 
 ments. Without being pledged to either Say or Adam 
 Smith, he was by nature and practice a political economist. 
 He looked at capital and estate with the eye of a familiar. 
 With Everett, he held that, without capital, " there can be 
 no exercise on a large scale of the mechanic arts, no manu- 
 factures, no private improvements, no public enterprises of 
 utility, no domestic exchanges, and no foreign commerce." 
 He thought it most imprudent to enter into any financial 
 undertakings trusting to credit or money accommodations 
 for the necessar}- stock. He was not like Barnum, when he 
 conceived the idea of purchasing the American Museum, con- 
 fessing that "silver and gold he had none — only brass." On 
 the contrarv, he made no venture, excepting as he felt rooted 
 down in all directions. He proposed to keep perpendicular 
 to all misfortunes, if precaution could assure it. 
 
 He never purchased " at the top of the market." The 
 market must be flat and almost spleenful in its dullness if he 
 gave it anv attention. It was when the waters were all re- 
 ceded that he put out from shore; but then, in what triumph 
 he rode in astride the returning wave ! As he made an extra 
 ten or twenty thousand, he would lay it out in some portion 
 of New York destined to advance in prosperity. The invest- 
 ments being made from his own earnings, it mattered little 
 to him how prices lagged, or how they rose or fell. Behind 
 him there was no howl and no rush of a timorous and aflright- 
 ened constituency. He suffered no run on his bank. Like 
 any man who appreciates the gift of clear vision, he would 
 only move out as he could see his wa}' ; and, as he opened up 
 his track in the front he put down the brakes in the rear, 
 thus controlling the speed of his machinery and securing its 
 equilibrium. 
 
A. T. STEWART. 605 
 
 It may be of interest tQ some of our readers to give the 
 results of a day's sales at Mr. Stewart's retail house, together 
 with one or two other statistical items. We therefore choose 
 a sample taken from an article prepared by Mr. James D. 
 Mill, himself a New York merchant: 
 
 " The accounts of each department are kept separately, 
 and the sales of each day constitute a separate return. These 
 sales will average soinething like the following figures: 
 
 Silks, $15,000 
 
 Dress goods, - . . . 6,000 
 
 Muslins, . . . - - 3,000 
 
 Laces, ....-- 2,000 
 
 Shawls, ..... 2,500 
 
 Suits ...-.- 1,000 
 
 Calicoes, ..... 1,500 
 
 Velvets, - - - - - 2,000 
 
 Gloves, ..... 1,000 
 
 Furs, ...... 1,000 
 
 Hosiery, ..... 600 
 
 Boys' clothing, . . ... yoo 
 
 Notions, ..... 600 
 
 Embroideries, .... 1,000 
 
 Carpets, - . . . . 5,500 
 
 " The total daily receipts average $60,000, and have been 
 known to amount to $87,000. The employes' book in the 
 retail house contains upwards of 2,200 names. Salaries of 
 subordinate clerks range from $5 to $25 per week, and cash- 
 boys receive $5 per week." 
 
 As Mr. Stewart was an originator of many methods and 
 tacts in trade, so he may be pronounced a commercial 
 reformer in his principles. He mixed the fire of the moral 
 sentiments with the cold and heartless tendencies of business. 
 He cultivated an unwillingness to violate character with such 
 persistence that he became an example to others. 
 
606 THE GENIU8 OP INDUSTRY. 
 
 Slowly, like the cleansing of ^ lazar-house, did he renew 
 and reconstruct the habits of those within the scope of his 
 influence. And yet it was these characteristics which, to 
 many merchants, made his life a cunning m3-stery and a rock 
 of otfense. Snares and bribes were set for him b}' the crafty 
 ones, but he was neither to be entrapped nor bought. Oppo- 
 sition was set on foot to put him to the rout, but it was as 
 futile as it was venomous. His breast was always open to 
 honorable inquiry. He was ready to reason with his oppo- 
 nents as to the wisdom of his career. But he was too firin 
 and too faithful to his own interests and the interests of 
 mankind to yield one jot or tittle. 
 
 He put forth his goods to all at honest selling prices, but 
 he never fell. This was contrary to his conception of honor. 
 He held that all customers should be treated alike. It was 
 contemptible, in his opinion, to hear men saying, " Well, see- 
 ing it's you, I'll take so and so; but don't say anything about 
 it! " This, to him, was either hypocrisy or treacher}^ and 
 he despised both. What he held as an individual duty, he 
 enforced upon his clerks. The common habits of misrepre- 
 senting goods — denying them when returned on account of 
 flaws — and l3'ing as regarded cost or qualit}-, he would not 
 brook for an instant. He held that no business could thrive 
 upon such a course, and for him there were good mercantile, 
 as well as moral, reasons for putting his veto upon it. In 
 such cases, he would take the clerk aside and reason the mat- 
 ter with him, showing that, by such conduct, customers 
 would become suspicious and distrustful, and eventually for- 
 sake the establishment. In more than one instance, the self- 
 conceit of the clerk so far got the mastery that he packed up 
 his traps and left, seeking a shop where " his proprietor would 
 not be ruined by such whims and crochets." 
 
.•1. T. STEWART. 607 
 
 Honesty, with hiirij was the best poHcy. He knew the 
 constant temptation hovering over a man in daily, business. 
 He not only dreaded detection and disgrace — he had a sense 
 of the value of reputation. Hence he could not share in 
 that conventional and dubious morality that obtained all 
 about him. He saw that the margin which separates right 
 and wrong was remorselessly trodden under foot by minute 
 and repeated encroachments. He could bear with the lesser 
 liberties of his employes so long as he felt them to be 
 harmless; but when he discovered them crossing the line of 
 rectitude he became indignant. With him justice was jus- 
 tice. He saw that every thing tilts and rocks which is not 
 founded on just principles. There were honest opportuni- 
 ties to make money without defrauding purchasers. He 
 could not bear to have them face to face with him, pouring 
 forth their upbraidings. He could not bear the whisperings 
 of his own conscience if it informed him of one iota that 
 was unfair between him and his fellow-men. His moral 
 sense told him it was unmanly. 
 
 Honest with his customers, he was also honest with his 
 clerks. It was his aim to make them feel that the}' were all 
 necessary parts of the firm. While he required the closest 
 attention to business during business hours, he did not act as 
 though the wages he paid them gave him right and title to 
 their souls. He knew human nature too well to provoke it 
 to extremes of any sort. He well understood that the best 
 bow must, at times, be unstrung, or else it loses its elasticity 
 and force; so he was rather disposed to take the extra labor 
 on himself than impose it upon those under him. 
 
 Next to honesty, with Mr. Stewart, was courtesy in busi- 
 ness. This was ever in his mind in the selection of his 
 clerks. He sought for every quality of character that tends 
 
■608 THE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 to secure this. Parentage, breeding, opportunit}-, all cut a 
 figure with him. He held that there is something in " blood." 
 Some persons, by birth, are "nature's noblemen," while 
 others are boors to begin with, and to the end, despite 
 father, mother, schooling, society, or city. He did not like 
 to see one of his employes whittling a stick, or smoking a 
 pipe or cigar like a hackman; nor would he endure it. 
 There must be taste in manners and toilet, and grace and 
 dignity in mien. Above all else, he would suffer no self-sat- 
 isfied smirks or foppery in the presence of ladies. There 
 must be no partialities; no superciliousness to those clad in 
 cheap attire. Any one who stepped inside his store, poor or 
 rich, was assured of the most decorous treatment. There 
 could be no impertinences shown such as were ignorant of 
 the ways of trade or the amenities of society. He w\as 
 debtor to all sorts of people in his dealings and accommoda- 
 tions. He would not have his clerks too servile or fawning, 
 nor would he permit them to be abrupt. If, after much 
 kind remark and training, a candidate for his favor failed to 
 adopt the golden mean, he must try his fortune as a sales- 
 man elsewhere. Of all he required patience to meet a cus- 
 tomer's desires and fathom his needs. 
 
 No one can deny that Mr. Stewart loved money, and 
 loved to make it. It was for him, as for many more, a pro- 
 fession. He became absorbed in it upon the same principle 
 a poet becomes absorbed in poetr}', or an artist in sculpture. 
 He had his way to make in the world with the rest of man- 
 kind, and the choice he made harmonized most with his 
 taste and abilities. But Mammon was not exclusively the 
 god of his affections. If money-making was with him a 
 propensity; if it employed his activities or heightened his 
 joy; if it opened up for him avenues of operation, secured 
 
A. T. STEWART. 609 
 
 that power that is found in a wealth of repose, or gave him 
 a rare notoriety — it was always kept subordinate to an 
 unimpeachable manhood. Some men, as they become 
 affluent, grow heartless. The train of their thoughts is 
 indissolubly linked to selfish increase; they are afflicted by 
 the cravings of an unsated appetite; they lose all sense of 
 soul, save as a commodity of traffic; and the estimate they 
 place on the public is proportioned to the extent of their 
 hopes in exhausting them of their possessions. An impal- 
 pable veil conceals from their eyes all objects of human 
 compassion, and they are strangers to charity. 
 
 Such, however, was not the case with A. T. Stewart. 
 Like Peabod}-, he made princely donations. He acknowl- 
 edged his obligations to those who had made it possible for 
 him to attain his position. He loved his fatherland like a 
 true son of Erin, and, when it was desolated by famine, was 
 among the first to render it solid aid. The country of his 
 adoption also found a share in his liberalit}-. His treasury 
 was ever open to the Union during the war. He had a firm 
 faith in American securitie9, and took with pleasure his 
 nation's obligations. When the proud and magnificent city 
 of the lake shore was humbled to ashes, he sent fifty thous- 
 and dollars to the sufferers. But he had a repugnance to 
 the ostentation so common to public charities ; his benefac- 
 tions were given quietly. 
 
 He conducted business on business principles, and not on 
 sentimental. It is said that on a certain occasion Astor had 
 some transactions with a church trustee, who was eager to 
 obtain a reduction of price for his people. "No!" said 
 Astor, " business is business, and I shall charge you just the 
 same as any one else." The trustee reasoned and persisted, 
 but Astor stood firm, and so the transaction terminated. 
 
610 THE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 Instantly he filled out a draft for a thousand dollars, and, 
 handing it to the trustee, said: " I shall be happy to con- 
 tribute my mite now to your undertaking." 
 
 Some feeling of this sort pervaded Stewart also. He 
 deprecated that system of dead-heading and begging so fre- 
 quently practiced by extravagant aspirants for church 
 architecture. With him, churches ought to conduct their 
 business on as strictly independent principles as banks or 
 other mercantile corporations. He saw no reason why men 
 of immense wealth in various denominational connections 
 should so draw the line between what they owned and what 
 belonged to God as to put their pittance in the Master's 
 treasury and the lion's share in their own. If they were 
 really what they professed, let them show it by their 
 actions. 
 
 We are not so to be construed, in this last paragraph, as 
 to reflect on proper pleas for religious help, or on Mr. 
 Stewart's regard for such. He was not callous to the Gospel 
 claim, nor was he averse to reciprocity. No man appre- 
 ciated benefactions or support more than he. It was neither 
 in his nature nor his wisdom to isolate himself from the 
 sympathy and respect of society. He honored that maxim, 
 "Live and let live." He believed in doing unto others as 
 he would be done by; but he cAme to human beings with 
 moderate expectations, and he liked to be so approached. 
 He had a keen sense of equity; he could not concur in many 
 of the self aggrandizing schemes presented for his considera- 
 tion. While the claimant affected to satisfy himself with 
 the mere edgings of the wealthy, he knew that he was as 
 quick to grind the faces of the poor. Often he had remarked 
 that the proceeds passed into the hands of stalled dignit}- or 
 else became the occasion of greedy strife. 
 
A. T. STEWART. 611 
 
 Moreover, he possessed one of those extra tones of judg- 
 ment so necessary to welcome and support a business career. 
 To him it was no charit}' to bestow goods on the gourmand 
 or professional beggar. If he reserved his benefits from 
 such applications it was only that he might not be stripped 
 of power in a season when he felt he must render assistance. 
 But, although he had the courage to refuse the unjustly 
 importunate, he was never surly; he was simply determinate. 
 He did not resist and resent as the habit of his life; nor did 
 he, like some, give twenty-five cents to ever}' person and 
 every thing that came along. Into his charities, as much as 
 elsewhere, he carried his originality of method. He ne\er 
 became jealous of his fortune; nor did he sit among his 
 bags and die of utter want. He had views, and he proposed 
 to maintain them. Let whoever else would be unreasonable, 
 he would be reasonable; let whoever might find fault, he 
 would exercise discretion and acquit his conscience. 
 
 He had learned the fact that the receiver could be ungen- 
 erous as well as the giver. With his quick eve he read that 
 man who, having obtained one benefit, took advantage of 
 the fact, and, with an inflamed rapacity, knocked anew at 
 his door. Harpies were his abhorrence; he saw with regret 
 that they exhausted the benevolence of a community, draw- 
 ing helping hands aside to their exclusive benefit. He saw 
 that they preyed upon the compassionate principles of our 
 human nature; and, for the very love he bore the needy, he 
 resolutel}' refused to open his hand or his heart to thein. 
 To our thinking, he has given a beautiful expression of this 
 among the latest acts of his life, in the handsome block he 
 has reared for the benefit of the workingwomen of New 
 York Cit}'. Like a man we know of in Illinois, who per- 
 mitted himself to be misunderstood for 3-ears, in order that 
 
612 
 
 THE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 he might gather his little all together and erect a church in 
 his community with his own hands, so Stewart has passed 
 by much, that he might give his strength to more worthy 
 and more enduring works of charity. 
 

 '% 
 
 <d 
 
 'P kk<3 
 
 
g^I^F-HJll^l^J^f^. 
 
 Man is his own star; and the soul that can 
 Render an honest and a perfect man, 
 Comnnands all light, all influence, all fate: 
 Nothing to him falls early or too late. 
 Our acts our angels are, or good or ill. 
 Our fatal shadows that walk by us still. 
 
 — Honest Mali's Fortune. 
 
 Trust thvself: every heart vibrates to that iron string. — Emerson. 
 
 " Our motive power is always found in what we lack." 
 
ly^lf-l^dfeM^. 
 
 T has come to be universally believed that self- 
 reliance is the master key that unlocks all the diffi- 
 culties arising along one's path. But like the locks 
 of private mail boxes, the intricacies of each forbid entrance 
 to all keys but one. Every person then must solve his own 
 problems. Individuality is the primer nature first puts into 
 the hand, and peculiarity is one of her first stepping-stones 
 to an enviable destin}'- A human being who simpi}' repeats 
 another is of little moment. Base imitations are bad things. 
 We bring away that which injures more easily than we do 
 that which helps. Even in the best estate, repetitions 
 become flat and monotonous, and an excess of proclamation 
 is attended with mere pomp and sound. A man who would 
 get on in the world can afix)rd to confess this. There is no 
 such thing as suiting your strokes to every echo, nor your 
 steps to every footprint. Neither if you proceed at your 
 option and as wisely as you know how, will every one 
 accord with your conceptions of propriety. Are you then 
 to tarry and mourn over the world's conservatism.? Is life 
 to be to you a mere enslavement to effete customs? Emer- 
 son says, " Whoso would be a man must be a non-conformist. 
 He who would gather immortal palms must not be hindered 
 
 615 
 
616 THE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 by the name of goodness, but must explore if it be good- 
 ness. Nothing is at last sacred but the integrity of your 
 own mind. Absolve you to yourself, and 30U shall have 
 the sufirage of the world. I remember an answer which, 
 when quite young, I was prompted to make to a valued 
 adviser who was wont to importune me with the dear old 
 doctrines of the church. On my saying, ' What have I to 
 do with the sacredness of traditions, if I live wholly from 
 within .'' ' my friend suggested : ' But these impulses may 
 be from below, not from above.' I replied: ' They do not 
 seem to me to be such; but if I am the devil's child, I will 
 live, then, from the devil.' " I quote this because it seeks 
 to lift every man on to the vantage ground of reverence for 
 self. A man is to carry himself when alone, and when in 
 the presence of all the world, as if ever}- thing were titular 
 and ephemeral but himself. The man does not live who 
 can afford to have the self consciousness of his worth struck 
 out of his mind. 
 
 Who does not know one or more men of large acquire- 
 ments and rich culture whose splendid parts are all wither- 
 ing for lack of use. ^ The cause of this is want of self- 
 confidence. They see things they would like to do, and are 
 conscious their attainments have thoroughly prepared them 
 for it, but they have not courage enough to trust themselves. 
 If selfreliance could be reduced to conic sections, and a 
 treatise placed in our schools, to be taught as astronomy 
 and physiolog}' are, there might be some hope that by the 
 next generation or two, self-reliant m^n would be grown. 
 But could such a novelty ever occur, what a depletion should 
 we witness in the ranks of those who annually flock to Long 
 Branch, Saratoga, and Europe! Let us not speculate so 
 freely. Self-reliance, after all, is not a thing to be bought 
 
SELF-RELIANCE. 617 
 
 by the yard or measured off like tape. In a large sense it 
 is God-given, but like the apocalyptic candlestick, its crim- 
 inal disuse justifies its removal. Many persons come into 
 the world with smallness of gift, as it respects this. But 
 the exercise of what little is owned is so limited, no benefits 
 accrue. They seem never to have known what it was to 
 wield the sinewy arm and possess the iron heart. They are 
 pendants, fastening, like barnacles to a ship, on some one 
 stronger and more executive than themselves. Instead of 
 grappling with fate, the}' tamel}' submit to be drawn on b}' 
 what they deem the best management. They may have 
 plans and purposes enough, but, if so, they lack that cohesive 
 power which knits things together, and, worse than all, 
 moral solvency. Time was when, inconsiderable as were 
 their parts, they were their own; and, to say the least, a 
 seed is not so small as to justify negligence in planting, 
 watering and attention. Now their garden is adorned with 
 neither indigenous nor exotic plants. 
 
 For a man to attempt any considerable task without self- 
 reliance, is about as wise as for a carpenter to commence 
 a roof without a ridge-pole. This essential quality is the 
 tap-root of the tree of life. Cut it, and instantly the foliage 
 dies and drops; succor it, and new, umbrageous boughs are 
 sent forth. But self reliance does not imply that one can 
 derive no benefit from foreign help; it rather implies that 
 one does. No one can successfully deny the fact of his 
 babyhood. What would a tree be if it were forbidden to 
 replenish its juices from the agencies beneath and about it ? 
 Would it ever have been, had it not? And yet as to resist- 
 ing storms, or in any wise making its wa}' in the forest, and 
 holding its own territory, it must depend upon its own forces. 
 The sun maj^ shine, the atmosphere may heap itself about 
 
618 THE GENIUS OF IN DUST RT. 
 
 in strata, rains may fall, and the earth be full of nourishment., 
 but if the tree reach not out to seize the good that is in 
 them, it will perish as though they had not been. Na}*, if 
 it fail of one, it fails of all; for the chain upon which success 
 depends is no stronger than its weakest link. 
 
 So it is with man. Let him, to begin with, be well 
 grounded. He finds himself in the midst of an armory of 
 implements. Let him take Saul's armor if he can wear it,, 
 and Saul's spear if he can wield it; if not, let him have sense 
 enough to know it, and then choose a sling and a stone tO' 
 slay his giant. He has a heritage in the wealth of thought 
 and deed that has come down to him from Adam; |et him 
 enrich himself with the counsels and the example of all who 
 are worthy to give him an uplift. But let this be done not 
 with feebleness of purpose, nor emasculation of power. Let 
 even the selection of help be made with that independent tact 
 that shall show vigor and rigor of will. One must have 
 foundations, but quany and lay the ashlar yourself, one must 
 find scaffold timber somewhere, but keep it out of the house. 
 One must have stepping-stones in life, but use them to pass 
 up on, and out in the great beyond of action and art. This 
 gives the world the very ripest, broadest manhood possible- 
 Every one and everything is conserved for a further and a 
 better service. Each succeeding generation thus becomes 
 debtor to the past, and an improvement upon it; and the 
 thought or the act is his who sa3-s or does it last and best. 
 We ha\e felt it necessary to say this because of some cant 
 abroad about plagiarism and that sort of thing. We do not 
 wish our readers so intimidated as to decline necessary help. 
 We have no sympathy with the mental development which 
 results from ultra-mental independence. The world needs 
 to be freed from this over-individuality; and yet we are not 
 
SELF-RELIANCE. 619 
 
 indifferent to the injury that must accrue should our teach- 
 ing be misapplied. On this point, then, we intend being- 
 quite exphcit. There is this difference between corner- 
 stones and crutclies ; on one you build, on the other you lean. 
 Erected on the one is that which is constantly taking expan- 
 sion and greater beauty of form; erected on the other is 
 that which daily dwindles. While, therefore, we heartily 
 urge that which is written, we as pointedly denounce a dispo- 
 sition upon the part of the young to fi}' to some father, 
 mother or friend, on the most trivial occasions, for help. 
 We know of no surer way to prostrate and paral3'ze the 
 energies than this. Not thus are men built. Nature never 
 gives a hardy growth after this fashion; the mightiest trees 
 are those that stand apart. Let the young do some think- 
 ing for themselves. Do not organize their plans; do not 
 make their investments; do not render their decisions; do 
 not bolster them up thus. They cannot always be tied to 
 one's apron-strings. To their own master they must stand 
 or fall. If you would have them good for anything, let 
 them pass through their crisis alone. What is more deplor- 
 able in life, if it were not laughable, then to see one of these 
 molluscous creatures looking about for some parental shell 
 to creep into.^ Hitherto, in such a time of, to him, moment- 
 ous exigency, some friend was at hand to lend a help; now 
 he looks round for his prop in vain. For an instant or two 
 he manages to preserve his equilibrium, and then over he 
 topples, looking as helpless to the b3'standers as a capsized 
 turtle. 
 
 If there was no other reason for being more independent, 
 the fact that every one has all he can do to attend to his 
 own concerns, is a potent one. When we cut loose from 
 the old homestead, we are on a search for the philosopher's 
 
620 THE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 stone, if we suppose we shall find people who have so deep 
 an interest in us as to carry us through the world on their 
 shoulders. A severance of self from every one else, and a 
 gathering up of all the forces under our command, that we 
 may individualize them, is one of the first steps to success. 
 The world has no use for boobies. It is not going to turn 
 aside for 3'ou until you compel it to, and this you will never 
 do without irresistible vim. 
 
 Only less effective than undue dependence upon parents 
 and friends in producing dolts, if not worse, is being tamp- 
 ered with by them. Why should my father relieve me of 
 my responsibility by constantly managing my affairs for me.? 
 Had he not a father once.'' Why be so solicitous.'' Are not 
 a good example and precepts sufficient without molding a 
 3'oung man like bricks or dough.'' Let there be freedom of 
 thought, room to purpose, and independent opinions in your 
 son if 3-ou would have him honor your name. A late mer- 
 chant said that not until he was fifty 3'ears of age was he 
 able fully to overcome the distrust of himself that an over- 
 solicitous parent had trained him in up to his twenty-fifth j-ear. 
 Till then his father held control of the business, treating 
 him and his efforts as though they were not trustworthy. 
 The result was that it took him a quarter of a century longer 
 to accomplish what he desired than it would if he had been 
 allowed opportunity to exercise his originalit}'. 
 
 We can not counsel irreverence to parents. But we as 
 much dislike tjTannizing over child-nature. If, then, 3'ou are 
 so unfortunatel3' situated, endure it with as good a grace as 
 possible, using what chance hours 3'ou can find to give 3'our 
 nature vent. Upon entering life for 3'ourself resolve to play 
 second fiddle to no man. Conceive and execute for 3'ourself 
 if possible, and it is possible. If a clerk, stud3' out wa3's and 
 
SELF.RELI^INCE. 621 
 
 means for exhibiting and selling goods, rel3nng on your own 
 judgment to teach you how. One stout soul with a resolu- 
 tion to work its own way through the world after the pattern 
 of its own high ideal, is of real significance in life and may 
 safely defy failure. Some where, and at some time, you 
 must be courageous enough to rest upon your own judgment, 
 and the sooner 3'ou do so the better it will be for you. Self- 
 reliance is like capital in business ; the more one has of it the 
 greater his facilities for increase. Yet with a meager begin- 
 ning one may by good economy occasionally overcome want 
 of capital and still prosper. Lord Nelson recognized the fact 
 that in lack of self-reliance lay his obstacle to preferment. 
 Even in his advanced years he would roll sleeplessly over in 
 his berth all night, fearing he would not be able to meet the 
 demands of the morrow. Yet by long training and wise 
 preparation, combined with unwearied attention to details he 
 brought himself to plan and conduct naval battles, the equals 
 of which have never since been claimed by English fleets. 
 
 A lofty self-respect must be associated with self-reliance, 
 " The youth," sa3's Disraeli, " who does not look up will look 
 down; and the spirit that does not soar is destined, perhaps,. 
 to grovel." Martin Luther dared to face the frown of the 
 religious and political powers of the earth. His action ap- 
 peared unwise and reckless, but it was far from it. A 
 supreme confidence that he was advocating the truth, and 
 that he was able to maintain it, were the simple and sole 
 moti\-cs that drove him single-handed into that awful con- 
 flict. Jenner faced shame and ridicule when he proclaimed 
 the value of vaccination. Though it seemed foolish to the 
 people, he contined stoutly to affirm it, and brought the col- 
 leges to his feet. On the same principle did Jackson meet 
 the National Bank Bill, and did Bonaparte say, "There shalL 
 
622 TEE OENIUS OF INBUHTMY. 
 
 be no Alps." It may not at all times be right, but it is the 
 conviction of a soul that -will think and dares to do. 
 
 Business is being flooded with men who mistake reckless- 
 ness for self-reliance. The occasional success that crowns 
 their ventures is heralded over the land, and becomes an 
 incentive to the mass to be governed by the same principles 
 of action. The man who risks his last dollar on a wheat 
 speculation; who stakes his fortune on a single throw of the 
 dice; the merchant who invests a fabulous sum in the fash- 
 ions of this fall, or credits his customers to the extent of his 
 invested capital; a general who risks a battle with half his 
 army when he could as well have every corps in action; or 
 the captain who puts to sea with half enough coal for his \oy- 
 age, trusting to lucky winds to blow him through — may be 
 plucky, but they lack wisdom. Self-reliance uncontrolled by 
 wisdom is as a vessel without a pilot. 
 
 Again, one may have an over-faith in himself. There is 
 many a village lawyer who saw how he could have bettered 
 Evart's defense of Beecher; many a young lire captain saw 
 how he could have snatched burning Chicago out of the 
 flames; man}- a merchant sees how he could run A. T Stew- 
 art's business better than Judge Hilton; inany a cross-roads 
 newspaper editor comments on the failure of the Times. 
 Every embryonic statesman can point you out the fallacies in 
 Clay, where Webster missed it, and the deplorable failure of 
 Calhoun. There may be a tinge of truth in all this. It is 
 eas}^ tp see partial failures after they have been magnified by 
 shrewd opponents. The man with this kind of faith in him- 
 self is not likely to study the steps by which these eminent 
 actors have succeeded ; and by going into a contest with a keen 
 e^'e to avoid failures, he finds he has failed to master those 
 things that make for ^•ictory. Self-reliance gives its great 
 
SELF-RELIANCE. 623 
 
 attention to the things to be done in order to succeed, and 
 not the things to be avoided. That self-sufficiency that can 
 coolly criticise our betters is not exactly the lever that upsets 
 the world. To be sure, one should have great faith in his 
 correctness ; but underlying this should be a clear knowledge 
 of the validity of the testimony on which this correctness is 
 based. That self-reliance that sees a desired end, and deter- 
 mines to reach it at whatever hazard to men or to morals, 
 and however contrary to the best judgments, may be deemed 
 by some valuable, but its virtue is neutralized by its licentious- 
 ness. 
 
 Without a doubt, there needs to be much of the " infalli- 
 ble feeling " in every thing you do. It must approach the 
 subject from the proper angle. Your worth as a critic on 
 other men's actions will avail little when acting for yourself. 
 You need to come to that labor with the soul charged with 
 self confidence, never letting it suspect that promise outruns 
 performance. No man ever yet approached a thing he was 
 able to perform with over-confidence. He must approach it 
 with a confidence that sets aside mere criticism, without a 
 single thought concerning failure, but with the clear under- 
 standing that he can do that work, for he knows hotv. 
 Emerson sets forth the thought in the following happy way: 
 " Each 3^oung and ardent person writes a diary, in which, 
 when the hours of prayer and penitence arrive, he inscribes 
 his soul. The pages thus written are to him burning and 
 fragrant; he reads them on his knees by midnight and by 
 the morning star; he wets them with his tears. They are 
 sacred — too good for the world, and hardly yet to be shown 
 to the dearest friend. This is the man-child that is born 
 to the soul, and her life still circulates in the babe. The 
 umbilical cord has not yet been cut. After some time has 
 
624 THE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 elapsed he begins to wish to admit his friend to this hallowed 
 experience, and with hesitation, yet with firmness, exposes 
 the pages to his eye. Will they not burn his eyes? The 
 friend coldly turns them over, and passes from the writing 
 to conversation with easy transition, which strikes the other 
 party with astonishment and vexation. He can not suspect 
 the writing itself. Days and nights of fervid life, of com- 
 munication with angels of darkness and of light, have 
 engraved their shadowy characters on that tear-stained book. 
 He suspects the intelligence or the heart of his friend. Is 
 there no friend.? He can not yet credit that one may have 
 impressive experience, and yet may not know how to put 
 his private fact into literature; and perhaps the discovery 
 that wisdom has other tongues and ministers than we — that 
 though we should hold our peace the truth would not the 
 less be spoken — might check injuriously the flames of our 
 zeal. A man can only speak so long as he does not 
 feel his speech to be partial and inadequate. It is partial, 
 but he does not see it to be so while he utters it. As soon 
 as he is released from the instinctive and particular, and 
 suspects its partialit}', he shuts his mouth in disgust. For 
 no man can write any thing well, who does not think that 
 what he writes is, for the time, the history of the world, or 
 do any thing well, who does not esteem his work to be of 
 importance. My work may be of none, but I must not 
 think it of none, or I shall not do it with impunity." 
 
 A chattering conceit is not self-trust. The two are wide 
 asunder as the poles. No man will ever palm conceit oft' on 
 himself for real force of character. If he attempt to palm 
 it on to others, the chimney-sweeps and bootblacks will 
 laugh at his folly. Nothing will ever avail a man's self for 
 himself but that which is within himself The man who 
 
SELF-RELIANCE. 625 
 
 speaks from within knows himself, and the world soon 
 knows him. If he put something on to himself, and speak 
 and act from it, he feels that the clothes do not fit, and the 
 world sees they were never made for him. Pampering and 
 polishing a little self-pride until it becomes a monstrous self- 
 conceit, enables a man to strut, and vaunt, and parade, but 
 it never blinds the world, nor gives him strength to perform 
 a heroic deed. 
 
 Conceit was once mistaken for courage, in those days 
 called chivalrous. It built palaces that bankrupted the citi- 
 zens of a province. It marshaled the Crusaders, and 
 murdered millions of men and children. It gave to con- 
 querors the idea that might makes right, and caused kings 
 to proclaim worship to themselves as to gods. But Cer- 
 vantes extinguished it with a romance. He sent the plumed 
 Don Quixote through its mailed sides, and it only makes its 
 appearance since in the shape of men who seem but can not 
 be. There was no conceit in the Alexander that conquered, 
 in the Columbus that discovered, in the Washington that 
 withstood. 
 
 There is a power in selftrust that gives one a potency 
 and influence be^'ond all his other natural abilities. Let 
 some uncouth person suddenly appear in a cultured com- 
 munity and raise his voice against established abuses — the 
 betrayal of confidence in society, or the prevalent misrepre- 
 sentations of the trades-people — drawing the public mind to 
 his judgment-seat and condemning it. His incoherent and 
 irrational speech may excite ridicule for a day, but very 
 soon the Emersons and Carlyles come and sit at his feet. 
 The man who gives fearless utterance to his whole convic- 
 tions will commend himself to the judgment of all unbiased 
 people. The same principle that urges one into the breach 
 
626 TUE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 of a great reformation or to speak his faith in the face of 
 raging opposition will lead him to choose words which, how- 
 ever inelegant, are always strong and aggressive. In the 
 da3's of the Terror, Lannes spoke with more impunity than 
 an}- man in Paris, and yet at Lodi he was the man who 
 sprang in front of Bonaparte leading the French across the 
 bridge. After the bridge was crossed Lannes " spurred his 
 maddened horse into the very midst of the Austrian ranks," 
 says Abbott, " and grasped a banner. At that moment his 
 horse fell dead beneath him, and half a dozen swords glit- 
 tered above his head. With herculean strength and agility 
 he extricated himself from his fallen steed, leaped upon the 
 horse of an Austrian officer behind the rider, plunged his 
 sword through the body of the officer, and hurled him from 
 his saddle; taking his seat, he fought his way back to his 
 followers, hax'ing slain in the melee six of the Austrians with 
 his own hand." 
 
 Bravado is not self-trust. It is trying to get other people 
 to trust you. When Louis of France said, " I am the 
 State," he sought to impress the grandeur of himself, but it 
 was an unconscious confession of his weakness. And yet how 
 many a man gets on his high-heeled shoes, puts a feather 
 in his hat, and tries to make believe he is a real actor. 
 George Eliot says that " Man can do nothing without the 
 make-believe of a beginning." There is a certain amount 
 of make-believe in ever)' thing one does, but it is not a mere 
 make-believe to the man of genuine self-reliance. He will 
 do all that he avows to do. It is bravado, or seems to be, 
 in the eyes of others. With him it is true that 
 
 " Man alone 
 Can perform the impossible." 
 
 That general who pitched his camp on an eminence over- 
 
SELF-SEIIANCE. (J2T 
 
 looking his vastly superior foe, and all night long marched 
 his little band in front of his fires and then encircled them in 
 the darkness beyond the brow of the hill, bringing them 
 round by the same path again — whom the enem}', seeing, 
 thought to be a ceaseless inpouring of reinforcements and 
 retired at daybreak in terror — exhibited the pure kind of 
 self-trust. When Duke George threatened the life of Luther 
 if he appeared at Worms, a friend warned the reformer, but 
 Me said, " I will go there though for nine whole da3's running 
 it rained Duke Georges!" when Catharine Douglas, to 
 give James II an opportunity to escape from the conspirators, 
 rushed to the door to adjust the great iron bar, and finding 
 it gone, flung herself against the door and put her arm into the 
 bar-socket, and held it there, until being broken, it yielded, 
 and the mob rushed over her fainting body; when Latimer 
 burned first the hand that signed his recantation; when 
 Bruno told the Judges of the Inquisition, after they had con- 
 demned him to die, "You are more afraid to pronounce my 
 sentence than I am to receive it;" when Charles Sumner told 
 Brown-Sequard not to administer narcotics if it lessened the 
 curati\"e powers a single degree, but to apply the red-hot 
 irons to his spine — it was not bravado; it was a supreme 
 self-trust. 
 
 Boasting is seldom the wont of self-reliance. Men pos- 
 sessing self-confidence in a commanding degree are only 
 given to its assertion when there is manifest need. The 
 sagacious statesman and intrepid warrior, William the 
 Silent, was not called silent because he seldom spoke, but 
 for restraining every emotion when the French King laid 
 before him the plot to exterminate those " accursed vermin," 
 the Protestants. Incautious talking seems to make this 
 virtue vapor}^ Our great generals are silent men, after the 
 
62S THE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 order of William. Our great writers are silent men, after 
 the order of Shakspeare, who let so little be known of him- 
 self in connection with his works that many have questioned 
 his authorship. Our greatest statesmen are silent, like the 
 younger Pitt, who let so little be known of himself that his 
 biographer was forced to gather from his servants and 
 friends the story of his life. Of his thousand speeches not 
 one had he preserved. Our greatest financiers are silent, 
 like Vanderbilt, who controlled more interests than any 
 man on Wall street, and yet was never seen on 'Change. 
 Our greatest business men are silent, like P. T. Barnum, 
 who says, "Be friendly with your friends, and coin'tly to all, 
 but keep }our own counsels, and rely on yourself as able 
 to attend to 3"our own business." 
 
 Ambition is a necessary adjunct to self reliance; yet am- 
 bition must not be mistaken for self-reliance. It is a quality 
 common to all men. Statesmen, commanders and kings 
 have no monopoly of this article; the Digger Indian, the 
 bootblack and roustabout on the steamboat possess it also. 
 The possession of it is torture to the cowardly soul, while to 
 the selfdependant man it becomes a joyful driving wheel to 
 action. The inner soul of every schoolboy has dreams of 
 place and power; the unlettered swain fancies a coming 
 exaltation in the world; the pilfering waif that huddles in 
 an alley from the storm, thinks on coming fame ; the galley- 
 slave has visions of command flitting over his mind. So the 
 great mass of men hold burning desires for lofty places, but 
 never rise above the dead level of the common lile. ^'Esop 
 was once a slave, but he felt that he was greater than his 
 master, and steadily undertook what his conscious power told 
 him he could do. ladmon felt that he was too great for 
 chains, and sent him from bondage to the court of Crcesus. 
 
SELF-RELIANCE. 629 
 
 And the just world will send every man to court, whose 
 determinatiorf equals his ambition. Recently when Fred 
 Douglass visited his old master, Auld, and the once master 
 and slave talked and wept like brothers who had been 
 long separated; Mr. Auld said he always felt that Douglass 
 could never be retained in slavery, and intended to give him 
 his freedom at some time. Distrust of self is holding more 
 men in bondage to-day than any nation's code of slavery. 
 
 It is not a Charles Sumner, of an old Boston famil}', reared 
 in the Hub of intelligence; nor a Randolph surrounded by 
 adventitious circumstances; nor a John Stuart Mill, the one 
 pupil of a talented father, who alone become distinguished 
 in our times. Abraham Lincoln was a rail-splitter, Henry 
 Wilson a shoemaker, Salmon P. Chase a farmer boy; with 
 no one to trust but themselves, they conquered destin}-, and 
 went to the head of their nation and party. The life of 
 Frederick Douglass affords a thrilling illustration of what de- 
 termined self-reliance may do, for he had as far to climb to 
 get to the spot where the poorest free white boy is born as 
 that boy has to climb to be President of the nation. Nine 
 out of ten of the college-educated young men would shud- 
 der and shrink from the resolution to become one of the tirst 
 orators of the land; and yet Douglass holds such a position 
 and, in reaching it, fought his way from slavery and a name- 
 less hovel. The unfortunate incidents connected with the 
 life of a slave he appeared to care little for. "I was seldom 
 whipped, and never severely," he writes; but he felt that 
 slavery kept him from being a man., and this was misery. 
 He decided that he would be a man, and with awful em- 
 phasis of character began to train himself to that end. The 
 good-hearted Miss Auld taught him to read, and then he 
 started upon his career of knowledge by secretly purchasing 
 
630. THE GENIUS OF INDUSTRT. 
 
 the "Columbian Orator." " There," he says, "I met with 
 one of Sheridan's mighty speeches on the subject of ' Cath- 
 ohc Emancipation,' Lord Chatham's speech on the American 
 war, and speeches by the great WiUiam Pitt, and by Fo.x." 
 These speeches contirmed his confidence in himself, and 
 added to his limited stock of language, giving tongue to 
 many interesting thoughts which had frequently flashed 
 through his soul, but had died awa}' for want of utterance. 
 After many vexatious delays, and at the peril of his life, he 
 fled from Baltimore and finally landed in New Bedford. 
 While he sawed wood, shoveled coal, and rolled oil casks, 
 his mind was reaching onward. At the end of three years' 
 residence in the North, he appeared on the platform at the 
 convention held at Nantucket. His long-pent-up desires 
 obtaining this first outlet, he rose above the occasion into 
 the heights of masterly eloquence. He left the hall that 
 night having triumphed over trained speakers, and given the 
 world to know, what he had so long felt, that he was able 
 for more than common duties. He soon visited England, and 
 was received with the greatest enthusiasm. Elis courtly man- 
 ner, oratorical voice and cultivated speeches caused her learned 
 heads to appreciate as they had never done before, what self- 
 reliance, added to good abilities, was able to accomplish. 
 
 He has indulged in a more caustic criticism of the life and 
 habits of his own brethren than any other writer. He is a 
 reformer of the most advanced school, always pleading that 
 men must reform themselves; but his life is a greater com- 
 ment on the potency of decision, perseverance and self 
 reliance than all the orations and essaj's he has ever given 
 the world. 
 
 It is no evidence of self-reliance to rush into a fray with- 
 out being fully prepared for it. Self-reliance without cau- 
 
SELF-RELIANCE. (J31 
 
 tiousness is but a sorry help in a hotly contested encounter. 
 It is the remark of such men that they tremble before a 
 struggle when not fully equipped, but like Wellington, when 
 they have men and have them well fed they are not afraid 
 to meet the enemy. General Sherman stood for this prin- 
 ciple in the Northern army, as Stonewall Jackson did in the 
 Southern. When Sherman went to Washington and offered 
 his services, Secretary Cameron told him that the storm 
 would soon subside, and they wouldn't need many troops. 
 Sherman replied, " This thing is not the ebullition of feeling. 
 It is the great settled con\iction of might)- men, and there 
 will be a long and desperate conflict before it is ended." 
 But he met the disagreeable fate of the prophets of evil. 
 He refused to have anything to do with raising three- 
 months' men, saying, '' You might as well attempt to put 
 out the flames of a burning house with a squirt-gun." After 
 the war had progressed some months the Secretar}' of War 
 asked, " How many troops do you need in your depart- 
 ment?" "Sixty thousand," answered Sherman," to drive 
 the enemy out of Kentuck}' ; two hundred thousand to fin- 
 ish the war in this section." Forthwith the story went 
 afloat that Sherman was crazy. Time proved that the 
 sturdy general, who refused to give battle unless possessed 
 of equal advantages with his enemies, was reckoning accord- 
 ing to the strength of his host. 
 
 This quality never uses undue haste in preparation. Con- 
 scious of its own power it bides its time. Hurry is an evi- 
 dence of weakness. The young Persian general pitched at 
 the enemy at daybreak and was whipped before breakfast; 
 but the old hero gave his men a warm breakfast, and hav- 
 ing got every thing in readiness, sallied forth and regained 
 the day. It requires uncommon nerve to hold steady until 
 
632 THE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 you see the whites of the enemy's eyes, but when the bat 
 tery is opened it gives a deadly tire. Cicero determined at 
 an early age that he would have a voice in the destiny of 
 his country, and at fourteen left Aspinum for Rome, that he 
 might be schooled to that end. He prostrated himself by 
 the drudgery of his study under Archias, and then flung 
 himself into the camp for three years, for a Roman states- 
 man must be a trained soldier. Not until the age of twenty- 
 seven did he make his first speech as a lawyer. His works 
 have been used for nineteen hundred years. 
 
 But all this catalogue is of little avail if 3-ou are leaning 
 on some one else for assistance. Like that piece of flesh in 
 the museum that has all the other qualities for a man but 
 backbone, lopped over and quivering like a jelly-fish, so a 
 man without self-reliance is never able to hold himself per- 
 pendicular and at rest. To decide upon his course and 
 accept the responsibility of it without a tremor is what made 
 Burke a great statesman. He said his impeachment of 
 Warren Hastings would be either his crowning glory or his 
 crowning shame, but that he felt able to make it his glory 
 When he delivered his impeachment speech, Hastings said 
 he knew the force of that one man would convict him, and 
 under the utterance of that awful sentence, " I impeach 
 Warren Hastings," he was almost convicted. When the 
 Douglas lay mortally wounded on the field of Otterburn, he 
 ordered his name to be shouted by his followers. They were 
 rallied by the name of him that knew only victory, and 
 " The Douglas dead, his name hath won the field." 
 
 The vast majority of men who have come to eminence 
 have risen from the ranks. The field and forum, invention 
 and science, have not received their brightest stars from the 
 titled born; their names have sprung from poverty and 
 
SELF-RELIANCE. 633 
 
 obscurity, by the aid of perseverance and self-reliance. The 
 fable of the labors of Hercules is the type of all human doing 
 and success. " You are a plebeian," said a patrician to 
 Cicero. " I am a plebeian," said the eloquent Roman; "the 
 nobility of my family begins with me; that of yours will end 
 with you." The world jilted Dr. Johnson, but he snapped 
 his big fingers at her folly and took his seat as the king of 
 literature. Their own ability, animated by their sublime 
 self-reliance, made Wellington, Bonaparte and Caesar the 
 heroes of the battle-fiell. It made Demosthenes, Chatham 
 and Burke, Webster, Franklin and Calhoun the world's 
 statesmen and orators. It made Palissy, Cu\ier and Colum- 
 bus, Howe, Humboldt and Livingstone the world's inventors 
 and discoverers. From Croesus to Grant, those men who 
 have won the most have relied the most upon themselves. 
 
 We close this chapter with a somewhat long but sprightly 
 episode taken from the life of Napoleon. This rare man 
 furnishes a striking example of what a self-reliant man may 
 accomplish. Without friends, and despising wealth, he lifted 
 himself from orphanage to be the architect of empires. The 
 daring of his marches previous to the battle of Austerlitz, on 
 which field he humbled three monarchs and sealed the peace 
 of Europe for ten years, was his most brilliant exercise of this 
 great faculty. Abbott furnishes a graphic picture of the cam- 
 paign. Notwithstanding the victory at Ulm, Bonaparte was 
 still in imminent peril. One hundred and sixteen thousand 
 Russians were hurr3'ing through the plains of Poland to meet 
 him. From every quarter of Austria, columns of troops 
 were in rapid march to unite with the Russians. Alexander 
 of Russia repaired in person to Berlin to unite the army of 
 Prussia with the aUies. " At midnight, Alexander and Fred- 
 erick William descended into the dark and dismal tomb of 
 
634 THE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 Frederick the Great. A single torch revealed the gloom of 
 the regal mausoleum. Thus standing in the dead of night 
 b}- the coffin of the renowned warrior, they bound themselves 
 by a solemn oath to sustain the cause of the ' allied Kings ' 
 against the growing encroachments of Bonaparte. 
 
 England hastened thirty thousand troops to the scene of 
 conflict. It was surely time for the young invader to retreat, 
 or fortify himself and await the assault of his combined foes. 
 But he audaciously pressed on into the very midst of impend- 
 ing destruction. Like an inundation his victorious army 
 rolled down the valle}' of the Danube, sweeping every thing 
 belbre them. In three days he entered Munich, but he 
 rested not for an hour; he allowed his discomfited foe not one 
 moment to recover from their panic. ' Forward to Vienna! ' 
 v/as the command. The impetuous torrent rolled resistlessly 
 on. Austria was in consternation. Francis fled from his 
 capital. The Austrians and Russians, retreating from the 
 blows which fell so thick and heavily upon them, fled to join 
 the army which Alexander was leading to the rescue. Bona- 
 parte stood upon the heights which surrounded Vienna. 
 From the prostrate city he replenished his need}' stores. In 
 twenty days he had marched from the ocean to the Rhine; 
 in forty days from the Rhine to Vienna. 
 
 But Bonaparte, thus victorious, was in a situation critical 
 in the- extreme. " Europe deemed him irretrievably ruined. 
 He was hundreds of leagues from his own capital. It was 
 cold and icy winter. AVith a small army, he was in the heart 
 of the most powerful monarchy on the globe. Seventy thous- 
 and Austrians were approaching him from the south; eighty 
 thousand Hungarians were rushing to the conflict ; and a hun- 
 dred thousand Russians were but a few days' march before 
 him. His rear was exposed to assault from two hundred 
 
SELF-RELIANCE. fi35 
 
 thousand Prussians. Surely he will stop and fortify himself 
 behind the ramparts of Vienna. But, no! the command is 
 still, ' Onward ! Onward ! ! ' Not a moment was allowed 
 for repose. The cold winds of winter now swept the plains ; 
 the driving snow whitened the hills. Still the indomitable 
 host pressed on, till amid the dark storms of the north it had 
 disappeared from the observation of France. Upon the field 
 of Austerlitz, fifteen hundred miles from the capital of France, 
 Bonaparte met his foes. An army of nearly one hundred 
 thousand men, headed by the two Emperors, Alexander and 
 Francis, flushed with anticipated victory, arrested the steps 
 of the conqueror. Bonaparte had but seventy thousand men. 
 Not an hour was to be lost. Horsemen and footmen were 
 hurrying in uncounted thousands to add still greater strength 
 to the allied hosts." 
 
 On the first of December the self-reliant hero came in sight 
 of his foe with " inexpressible delight." " To-morrow," said 
 he, "before nightfall that army shall be my own." His soul 
 kept pace with the growing majesty of the situation. He 
 felt that the sheer force of his will could crush the advancing 
 battalions of the enemy. " Soldiers! " he said, " I will myself 
 direct all your battalions. I will keep myself at a distance 
 from your fire. But should victory appear for a moment 
 uncertain, you shall see your Emperor expose himself to the 
 first strokes. Victory must not be doubtful on this occa- 
 sion." At sunrise he sounded the charge. From an emi- 
 nence he directed every mo\emcnt of his troops. He could 
 rely on no one but himself. The French army hurled itself 
 upon the allies with the same spirit that had animated their 
 desperate march. Bonaparte stood the calmest man in all 
 the conflict, " watching the onset of his eagles." And before 
 noon he closed the war "with a clap of thunder." 
 
^iimfi -q. <mm^' 
 
 'The uncleared forest the unbroken soil, 
 The iron bark that turns the lumberman's ax, 
 The rapid that o'erbears the boatman's toil. 
 The prairie, hiding the mazed wanderer's tracks, 
 
 'The ambushed Indian, and the prowling bear — 
 Such were the needs that helped his youth to train; 
 Royal culture — but such trees large fruits may bear. 
 If but their stocks be of right girth and gram." 
 
Villi^m L hm 
 
 nm%. 
 
 ILLIAM G. GREENE was born in the State of 
 Tennessee, January 27, i8t2. His youth was not 
 to be distinguished from that of other men, except 
 in his occasional exhibitions of " grit." The family resi- 
 dence was situated on a spur of the Cumberland Mountains, 
 and was approached by the ordinary dug-out road, over 
 ledges of rock, the fall from one to another of these some- 
 times being two feet. 
 
 When William was nine years old his father determined 
 to move to Illinois, and to this end purchased a wagon. In 
 that region wagons were rare, hauling being done almost 
 universally on sleds. This one was in the full style of those 
 days — scoop bed and stiff tongue, with a long chain at the 
 end to fasten to the horse-collar. 
 
 The wagon was with difficulty brought up the steep 
 grade, and landed with much ceremony at the top, in front 
 of the house. The children dashed out to see the wonder. 
 Some of them climbed upon the wheels, and a larger one 
 got behind to see if he could push it. It started down the 
 road. William got hold of one of the tongue-chains and 
 yelled "Whoa! " but it refused to stop. He squared him- 
 
 6,)7 
 
 I 
 
638 THE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 self back and called on his brothers to " hold on," but the}' 
 had let go. Going over the first ledge the little fellow was 
 jerked off his feet, and away went the wagon down the 
 steep grade, jumping the oftsets and tearing along the 
 declivity with increased velocity at every bound of the 
 wheels. 
 
 At the foot of the mountain the tongue struck a tree and 
 broke in two, the wagon careering on. By the time the 
 frightened family reached the spot William was picking 
 himself up from the foot of the tree, his clothes all stripped 
 from him, and his breast and limbs bruised and bleeding. 
 "Where is the wagon.''" shouted the father. "I don't 
 know," said the bo}', "but here's what I had a hold of" — 
 holding up the chain and the broken end of the tongue. 
 "Billy," said the mother, "why didn't 3'ou let go.''" 
 " Why, mother, I was a-goin' to hold on if it killed me. If 
 I'd a let it got away we'd never got to Ellinoy." 
 
 General Sherman exhibited a similar instance of pluck 
 when he was only five 3'ears of age. Mrs. Stowe sa3's that, 
 having been put upon a spirited horse by some mischievous 
 mates, the horse ran away to a tavern some miles off. He 
 stuck fast to the horse, though without saddle or bridle, and 
 without size or strength to use them if he had them. It was 
 a mere chance that he arri\-ed safe, and, when lifted off b}' 
 the S3''mpathizing inmates of the inn, the little fellow admit- 
 ted that he was shaken and sore with the ride, but he added, 
 " I'll be better to-morrow, and then Pll ride back.'''' 
 
 These instances possess no importance within themselves, 
 but the3' show a constitutional determination to stick to a 
 thing once begun, and an utter absence of fear. This facult3', 
 which never takes danger into account, and never tries to 
 keep at a distance from it, is as valuable in commerce as on 
 
WILLIAJI G. GREENE. 639 
 
 the field. Its full possession is quite uncommon. Nelson 
 possessed it to a very high degree. The future victor of 
 Trafalgar, when a mere child, had strayed away from home, 
 and got lost. When found and taken home, a relative 
 remarked, "I should think that fear. would keep you from 
 going so far awa}'." "Fear.'*" said the young gentleman, 
 quite innocently — "Fear.'' I don't know him." 
 
 If you had been at the forks of the old Salem road about 
 daybreak, on a certain morning in the spring of 1830, you 
 could have seen another specimen of this boy's decisiveness. 
 Astride of a grist of corn, on the faithful family mare, 
 crowned with brimless hat and clothed in homespun, he was 
 hurrying to the Salem mill to secure the first "turn." You 
 might have suspected, by the twinkle of his eye, that there 
 was fun and sagacit}' there, but you would never have 
 imagined that that boy would one day become a builder of 
 railroads, one of the foremost financiers in his State, and a 
 successful manager in nominating a national President. 
 
 As he rode along, tr}'ing to get to mill before the sun 
 rose, thoughts were pouring through his mind of coming 
 schemes in business, and then d3-ing away again for want of 
 words to bring thein into expression. That boy was William 
 G. Greene, now eighteen years of age — the period at which 
 most 5'oung men are pretty well through with their college 
 course and passing into cultured society. He, however, had 
 possessed but the rude advantages of the winter district 
 school, so characteristic of those da3's, and was still striving 
 to content himself with the linsey-woolsey society of the 
 backwoods. 
 
 Just before Greene reached Salem, a man dashed past 
 him and stopped at the " store." It proved to be Reuben 
 Radford, the proprietor. The " Clary's Grove Bo3-s," an 
 
640 TUE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 organized band of desperadoes, had taken possession of the 
 store the night before, during Radford's absence, and in 
 their drunken melee had left its contents in hopeless confu- 
 sion. Greene arrived in time to hear Radford exclaim: 
 " I'll sell this thing to the first man that makes me a bid." 
 Greene rode up to the solitary window, and, sticking his 
 head through a broken pane, took a hasty glance at the 
 state of affairs, and said, " I'll give you four hundred dollars 
 for it." The offer was at once accepted; and the penniless 
 boy, who had never made a trade before, walked into the 
 store and signed a note, payable in six months. 
 
 Naturally enough, after the purchase of the store, Greene 
 was anxious to know the exact worth of the stock. Abra- 
 ham Lincoln, who was boarding in the log hotel across the 
 street, assisted him in the inventory, and at sun-down their 
 books revealed eight hundred dollars worth of goods left from 
 the raid. Berry and Lincoln offered Greene a four-hundred- 
 dollar note, two hundred and sixty-five dollars in cash, and a 
 fine horse, for his store. With the celerity of his morning 
 decision, Greene accepted it. By moonlight he mounted his 
 horse, and with a new hat on his head and two hundred and 
 sixty-five dollars jingling in his pockets, the mill-boy of the 
 morning galloped home a retired merchant. 
 
 His two most intimate friends, from this time forward 
 were Abraham Lincoln and Richard Yates. But the poet 
 ical temperament of Yates and the statesmanlike turn of Lin 
 coin, exercised no influence on Greene's choice of a life call 
 ing. " Nature made you boys for lawyers," he would say 
 •• but she built me for business. You will both become great 
 in your professions, but, were I to go with you, I would make 
 a failure." There seems, at no time in life, to have been the 
 least desire of relinquishing his chosen path. Lincoln, while 
 
WILLTAM G. GREENE. 641 
 
 in the Presidency, sought to give him an important political 
 position, but he steadfastly refused it. Only once did he ac- 
 cept an office, and then it was for the good of his State. 
 As soon as the crisis was past he retired. 
 
 On Greene's return home with his day's profits, he entered 
 the family room, and, striding over the carpetless floor, he 
 uncovered the coals in the fireplace, and began piling on the 
 morning kindlings. " What you burnin' them kindlin's fur .^" 
 exclaimed his father, waking from his slumbers; "clear out 
 and go to bed, you rascal, you." Here Greene purposely 
 dropped a few fifty-cent pieces on the hearth. The old gen- 
 tleman cried to his wife, "Liz., this is what comes of givin' 
 that boy so much larnin'. Tve always been warnin' you he'd 
 do somethin' bad." Greene poked the fire to a brighter 
 blaze, and dropped some fifty-cent and five-franc pieces on 
 the floor. " Go to bed, you rascal, you ! " exclaimed the out- 
 raged father again, and turned himself out on the side of the 
 bed. Billy said nothing, but poked the fire again, and rolled 
 some more money on the floor. The father's curiosity now 
 fully aroused, he cried, " What's that you're a doin' there. 
 Bill.''" For the first time the boy spoke: "I've sold the 
 store, father, and this is a part of the profits." The father 
 reached his hand round under the pillow, where he kept an 
 old Virginia twist, exclaiming, " I guess I'll take a chaw." 
 Here a double-handful of silver came out, and went rolling 
 over the floor. " Crackens! " cried the old man, and he 
 dashed on to the floor and began to gather up the straggling 
 dollars. Out came some more. "Jerusalem! Here, mother, 
 get up and get this little feller a warm supper; he's done the 
 best da^'s work he ever done." 
 
 Lincoln was always fond of referring to this incident. 
 When Greene was visiting him toward the close of the war. 
 
642 THE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 he congratulated Mr. Lincoln on the important place he was 
 destined to lill in his country's history. " Yes," said Mr. 
 Lincoln, " if I close this business up satisfactorily Fll have a 
 'warm supper;' but if not, it will be, ' go to bed, you ras- 
 cal.'" 
 
 A strong natural bias for any particular calling is not 
 always manifested in youth. But when this natural predilec- 
 tion is exhibited, it becomes the sign-board of the life, and 
 woe be to him who will not obey its pointing. The circum- 
 stances of a family, the ambition of a father, and the associ- 
 ations of a youth, may completely hide from sight all the nat- 
 ural buddings of the life. It is possible to keep them forever 
 suppressed; but it is done at a price that the subject can ill 
 aflbrd. The man who, under the family command, or any 
 other cause, enters a calling for which nature has not de- 
 signed him, may do well, and come to love it, but he is 
 always pulling against the tide. When the boy West would 
 rob hairs from the family cat for his brushes he did not have 
 to be driven to his painting. But Pascal was so averse to 
 literature that his father was finally compelled to abandon 
 his purpose in despair, and let him go to what he would. 
 At sixteen he astounded the learned by a treatise on conic 
 sections. 
 
 So in }'oung Greene: when he broke the barriers that were 
 thrown about him. Nature grasped at every opportunity to 
 assert herself. Had not his predilections been so strong, his 
 career would have been quite different. To his mother he 
 owes more than to any other person. She it was who 
 detected, in his early years, the aspirations of his heart, and 
 gently nourished ever}' rising impulse. Her sensitive nature 
 was not in harmony with the rude ideas of frontier life, and 
 she assiduously sought to give her culture and sentiments to 
 
WILLIAM G. QBEENE. 643 
 
 her children. A mother's influence is lasting on a child, and 
 as manifest when she sows the seeds of infamy as when she 
 inculcates the highest virtues. Lamartine's life was rendered 
 fickle and void by a mother's vain and affected behavior. 
 The name of Nero would not stand as the synonym for cru- 
 elty and misrule, if a mother had not turned his footsteps in 
 the way of poison and the sword. Was not great Byron's 
 course made weak, vacillating and misanthropic by the teach- 
 ings of a pampering mother.^ How sad this refrain: 
 
 " Yet must I think less wildly! I have thought 
 Too long and darkly, till my brain became, 
 In its own eddy boiling and o'erwrought, 
 A whirling gulf of phantasy and flame; 
 And thus, tintaiight in youth my heart to tame^ 
 Aly springs of life ifcre ■poisoiiedi''' 
 
 The First Consul, when in conversation with Madame 
 Necker, remarked: "France needs mothers!" A loving, 
 caring mother — a thoughtful, moral mother — how much are 
 children indebted to such! It was a mother's influence that 
 gave the Wesleys to the world. Only a mother was able 
 to control the fractious spirit of Bonaparte, and teach him 
 the eleinents of obedience. Cromwell's biographer says 
 that his mother possessed the glorious facult}- of self-help 
 when other assistance failed her; that it was her training 
 that made him the careful disciplinarian he was, through 
 which he largely won his victories. In the palace of White- 
 hall, amid all her splendor, her only thought was for the 
 safety of her son in his dangerous eminence. " It is quite 
 true," said Joseph de Maistre, '' that women have produced 
 no chefs (foeuvre. They have written no Iliad, nor Jerusa- 
 lem Delivered, nor Paradise Lost, nor Tartuffe, nor Phsed- 
 rus, nor Hamlet; they have designed no Church of St. 
 
644 THE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 Peter, composed no Messiah, carved no Apollo Belvedere, 
 painted no Last Judgment; they have invented neither 
 algebra, nor telescopes, nor steam engines ; but the}' ha\e 
 done something far greater and better than all this, for it is at 
 their knees that upright Jlnd virtuous men and women 
 have been trained — the most excellent productions in the 
 world." 
 
 Reared in the newly settled State of Illinois, Greene was 
 debarred of those educational advantages which surround 
 the youth of older communities. But experience has 
 demonstrated that college halls and adventitious circum- 
 stances are not always the forces most conducive to success. 
 These advantages are to be coveted, but doubly strong is he 
 who can rise without their aid. Without energy and tact 
 one can not rise under any surroundings. It is almost a 
 truism, that success is the creature of enei^gy and tact. Men 
 may sometimes blunder into fame or fortune; but, unless 
 they possess sterling qualities, the sequel of their lives is apt 
 to prove that the}' were unworthily intrusted with its great 
 advantages. Opportunities come to every man; but only a 
 few seize upon them and rise with them to success. In 
 great emergencies men spring to the front and become lead- 
 ers. It is not so much because their opportunities were 
 greater as that they possessed the qualities which, in all ages, 
 have been recognized as the masters of success, and by 
 which they were enabled to take advantage of that 
 " — tide in the affairs of men, 
 Which, taken at the flood, leads on to fortune." 
 
 These truths, which have been happily expressed in the 
 saying, that " every man is the architect of his own fortune," 
 are, perhaps, nowhere more decidedl}- manifest than in new 
 settlements. Here intrinsic aids are peculiarly absent. 
 
WILLIAM Cr. OREENE. 645 
 
 Famil}' influence loses its power. Every man stands on his 
 own merits. If anjthing is accomplished it must be by 
 individual exertion. Add to this the rugged development 
 of character b}" actual contact with hardships, the courage 
 and confidence born of meeting obstacles and overcoming 
 them, and we have the school in which the highest types of 
 manhood have been developed. It was the training by 
 which Abraham Lincoln rose from obscurity to eminence; 
 that gave us the "noble Romans; " this that brought to the 
 front England's best captains and statesmen; this that has 
 given to America the strong, manly characters of her his- 
 tory. And, profiting by this experience, William G. Greene 
 has been enabled to imprint his name upon the annals of his 
 State as one deeply enlisted in her worthiest interests. 
 
 In his early daj's there was but little money in the com- 
 munity. St. Louis, one hundred and twent3'-five miles 
 distant, was the onl}' market for farm products. When 
 going to market, to stop at the taverns for accommodation 
 would h'lve been to consume the pittance one received for 
 his produce; hence the farmers of those days were accus- 
 tomed to bivouac around camp-fires, and considered them- 
 selves fortunate if they could find a hollow log to turn in to. 
 The earnings of a year were "sunk " in the pocket of the 
 country merchant in many instances. It was the era of hog 
 and hominy. " Dodgers " was the expressive title they 
 gave their bread, based upon the indisputable fact that upon 
 a certain memorable occasion of connubial infelicity the 
 " defenseless female " found them admirable substitutes for 
 stones. Those who were so fortunate as to reside near 
 streams, "jugged" for "cat." Mink and otter were the 
 victims of their ingenious traps. Cucumbers, paw-paws, 
 melons and roasting-ears constituted their variety of fruits. 
 
6i6 THE- GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 Razor-backed swine filed through the thickets of black-jack, 
 in all directions, too ordinary to require a brand and too 
 lean to trail a shadow. Raffling for turkeys and the drinks 
 was to them a popular pastime. The odds and ends of the 
 hours were occupied in wrestling, jumping, or pitching 
 quoits. Home-made jeans and linsey-woolsey were the 
 court-dress, and a 'coon-skin cap the crowning piece of these 
 pioneer kings. 
 
 Such were the surroundings amid which Greene had to 
 educate himself for his life's work. Yet he found them suf 
 ficient, with his active mind, to form the basis of a solid and 
 practical character. lie was quick to grasp the intricacies 
 of thought, and what he once learned was never forgotten. 
 Lincoln was some three years older than Greene; but, so far 
 as education was concerned, the latter had the advantage, 
 for from him Lincoln learned his first lessons in grammar. 
 
 In 1832 Greene laid aside his efTorts for an education, and 
 enlisted in the Black Hawk war. Lincoln was chosen cap- 
 tain of the company raised at Salem. They served their 
 country for twenty days, but they were days characterized 
 by hardships rather than glory. 
 
 On Greene's return home he became a student of Illinois 
 College, at Jacksonville. Leaving home with twenty dollars 
 in his pocket, and a homespun suit of clothes on his back, 
 he determined to have an education if energy and economy 
 could carry him through. He entered the industrial depart- 
 ment, where students were paid eight to ten cents an hour 
 for their labor. Here began a course of unflagging indus- 
 try, which was increased rather than diminished through 
 the three years' course at this institution, and in which was 
 laid the solid foundation of a liberal education. He worked 
 every hour of the day not occupied by recitations, and pur- 
 
WILLIJJf O. GREENE. 6i7 
 
 sued his studies far into the night. For Saturday's work he 
 would receive seventy-five cents. He prepared his own food, 
 which cost him thirty-five cents a week. 
 
 He was not long in attracting the attention of Dr. Ed- 
 ward Beecher, then president of the school. His perfect 
 lessons, his happy faculty of making clear the most puzzling 
 problems, and his wonderful industry in working hours, 
 caused Dr. Beecher to interview him on several occa- 
 sions, for the purpose of having him enter the theological 
 course, Beecher and Sturtevant promising to furnish him 
 means to take him through to graduation. But he 
 told them that the Lord had never called him to preach, 
 and, moreover he believed that in his case a self-earned edu- 
 cation waj essential to after success. He aimed to clear a 
 little more money every day than he spent; and so well had 
 he employed his time that, when he left school at the end 
 of three years, he had two good suits of " store clothes," 
 eighty acres of land that he had entered, and sixty dollars 
 in money — forty dollars more than he had left home with. 
 
 To keep his expenses below his income, no matter how 
 meager the income might be, has ever been a principle in 
 Mr. Greene's life. He estimates that a hundred thousand 
 dollars of his fortune has been accumulated by obeying the 
 principles of economy, as set forth by Benjamin Franklin, in 
 a little volume for which he paid fifty cents. He could 
 make mone}-, but he did not know how to save it until he 
 chanced upon this book. Largeh' through its influence he 
 was induced to undertake his self-education. " The secret 
 of all success," says Mrs. Oliphant, '' is to know how to deny 
 3'ourself If 3'ou once learn to get the whip-hand of jour- 
 self, that is the best educator. Prove to me tliat you can 
 control 3'ourself, and I'll say that you are an educated man; 
 
648 THE GEN/US OF INDUSTUY. 
 
 and without this, all other education is good for next to- 
 nothing." 
 
 Economy does not demand any unusual intellectual endow- 
 ments for its practice; only common sense and the power of 
 resisting selfish enjoyments. It does not even call for any 
 great exercise of the will; it only asks a little patient self- 
 denial. ,Yet how few can persuade themselves to practice 
 this negative virtue. Because they will not, half the young 
 men of the land enter business life in debt, and once feeling 
 straitened, foolish pride causes them to still further in\olve 
 themselves, to keep up appearances, and under the lash of a 
 "soul-eating interest," they are hounded through life, and 
 die bankrupts. The 3-outh whose energies are his onl}- stouk 
 in trade must keep his expenses below his income. The 
 man who spends more than his income, is driving on to ruin, 
 no matter if his income is ten thousand a year. The man 
 who persists in spending less than his income, is making a 
 financial success, no, matter if his income is but a dollar a 
 da}'. Cicero averred that the best source of wealth was 
 economy. 
 
 Men who have made every dollar of their wealth know 
 the toil and the self-denial that the first thousand dollars 
 cost. But it requires somewhat less effort to make the next 
 thousand, and so on in a decreasing ratio, until money- 
 getting is no longer a struggle. Getting a seed, and getting 
 it started to grow — getting a few thousand dollars, and 
 getting it so shaped that it will increase itself — is the crisis 
 of financial life. The man who thinks more of pleasure 
 than he does of ultimate good, will never pass through the 
 pinchings and sacrifices of this ordeal, and, bej'ond the 
 merest chance, he is destined to live next door to poverty all 
 his days. 
 
WILLIAM G. GREENE. 649 
 
 Realizing tlie worth of the determined purpose, Mr. 
 Greene has never permitted himself to trifle with this 
 faculty, so fully given him by nature. lie has studiously 
 refused to engage in any enterprise which he thought he 
 might, after a time, have a desire to relinquish, and has act- 
 ually kept out of ventures bearing the element of uncer-. 
 tainty, because he knew that when his will was once fi.xed 
 it would drive him through the undertaking, no matter what 
 the result might be. When he has once decided upon a 
 scheme, he sets about its accomplishment with the cautious 
 but restless tread of a lion on the path of its prey. Able to 
 grasp long ranges of nicelj'-balanced contingencies in a 
 trade, and jumping over the slow processes of logic, to exer- 
 cise unerring judgment by intuition, he has seldom failed to 
 prosecute any enterprise to a successful termination. 
 
 A cop3' of the Life of Hannibal chanced to fall in his way 
 while 3-et a youth. Reading it, his soul fed upon the deter- 
 mined spirit of the Carthagenian hero. He quicklj' came 
 to the conclusion that Hannibal was the master general of 
 the world, but that his giant determination was worth more 
 than all his arts of war. He pored over this volume with a 
 perfect rage of enthusiasm. Hannibal was enthroned as his 
 model of will-force and self-reliance. His mother's careful 
 training and the invigorating example of this volume were 
 the two most potent agencies in molding him for the strug- 
 gles of life. 
 
 He cultivated will-power as the absolute necessit}' of a suc- 
 cessful life, and, with Suwarrow, "preached it up as a 
 system." He that valiantly enters life with wind and tide 
 against him will find a "royal will" of more worth than a 
 score of mere accomplishments. Scholarship, wealth, pedi- 
 gree, circumstances, and even nature itself must yield before 
 
650 THE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 indomitable will. By it Franklin was enabled to set political 
 tricker}' at a detiance, outwit the diplomats of England,- and 
 secure S3"mpathy and aid for the struggling colonies. Lord 
 Thurlow began his legal career with all the odds of estab- 
 lished barristers and wealth-befriended young lawyers against 
 .a poverty-stricken and unknown youth; by the "graces of 
 his grit " he struck manly blows on the hard iron of public 
 patronage, and eventually brought the nation to be his client. 
 The bold and daring schemes of Commodore Vanderbilt 
 would have often proved futile had not his giant will backed 
 them to success. Against the unequal odds with which 
 Greene had to contend in his start in life, all his other virtues 
 would have proved barren had he not been blessed with 
 that will which always inakes a way. 
 
 The mutual respect that was awakened between Greene 
 and Lincoln on their first acquaintance, had steadily grown 
 during the following six years, and had deepened and ripened 
 into profound friendship. Mr. Lincoln was a man of broad 
 moral nature. He was born with the ten commandments 
 engraved on his heart. Greene naturally possessed great 
 moral force; but the influences that surrounded him on his 
 way to manhood, added to his money-getting propensities, 
 had caused him to indulge in gambling. Morally, Lincoln's 
 influence was almost boundless over Greene, and on all mat- 
 ters of business Greene stood like an oracle to Lincoln. 
 Greene was unusually successful in his gaming, but he began 
 to feel its taint reaching out through his commercial rela- 
 tions, and decided that it must be given up. 
 
 There was a certain traveling gambler who had beaten 
 him unfairly on a recent occasion, and he felt that he would 
 be utterly ruined if he should quit and leave the man on the 
 "lead." He accordingly told Lincoln that he had resolved 
 
WILLIAJf G. OHEENE. 651 
 
 to quit gaming; but he could'nt think of it until he had got 
 even with Jones. Lincohi was about as sagacious in some 
 of the queer ways of the settlement as Greene ; and he offered 
 to help him out of this difficulty, on the principle that of two 
 evils it is best always to choose the least. " The next time 
 Jones comes round," said Lincoln, " you bet him the silk 
 hats tor two, that there is a man here that can lift up a 
 whisk}^ barrel and drink out of the bung-hole." 
 
 In a few days the victim came around, bantering for a 
 game, when Greene made his offer on the agreed bet which 
 Jones quickly accepted. Lincoln was introduced from the 
 next room; lifted the barrel up on one knee, then lifted the 
 other end up on the other knee, leaned over and drank out 
 of the bung. Jones was astonished at his herculean strength, 
 and then became enraged at the greater moral Hercules 
 when he spit the liquor out, refusing to swallow it. Since 
 that day Greene has not wagered a cent, nor in any way 
 participated in a game of chance. 
 
 Money gained by any game of chance sejdom stays with 
 a man, and it seldom has a man to stay with. A square and 
 legitimate business is the only safe reliance. If fortune 
 smiles on a gamester to-day, she will frown on him to-morrow 
 and leave him fleeced. Beau Brummel started with a six- 
 pence and bagged thousands; but his luck turned, and the 
 fortune went faster than it came. Charlie Robbins won at 
 every table, and could guess to a vote the majority of the 
 successful candidate. An evil genius then took hold of him. 
 Judgment left him, nerve forsook him, his hand lost its cun- 
 ning, and he was reduced to beg for bread. 
 
 So we find the same rules working in the thing next akin 
 to this — speculation. Ralston went to California in almost 
 the character of an adventurer. His judgment on a trading 
 
652 THE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 venture became a Midas-like touch. Gold flowed into his 
 coffers like harvest in the fabled land, where, instead of sow- 
 ing and tilling, you have only to plunge irf the sickle and 
 reap. He entertained princes and financial magnates after 
 a royal fashion. He took the chair of the Bank of Califor- 
 nia. He devised money schemes and manipulated them to 
 a success that would have made Crcesus proud. But he 
 missed his calculations once, then again and again; then he 
 went to the wall. His failure startled the community as an 
 earthquake does a quiet land. The cause could not be 
 understood. The whence and whither of his fortune was a 
 mystery. 
 
 In much the same way Daniel Drew was crushed. So, in 
 Chicago, one can lay his fingers on a half dozen. who have 
 retired from luxury and affluence this very twelvemonth, for 
 the same reasons. That which comes by speculation or b}' 
 gaming is a result of chance ; no equivalent has been rendered 
 for it; no abiding law of commerce controlled it; so, sooner 
 or later it goes, as it cafne, and the penniless holder stands 
 bewildered. But why should this downfall surprise him.'' It 
 was chance that brought it to him, and chance that claimed 
 its own. 
 
 In new settlements, ideas do not germinate so rapidly as 
 in the crowded districts. In the cities, the masses will fight 
 a new idea all day long with the ferocit}' of tigers ; but at night 
 they will go home, sleep over it, and to-morrow, two chances 
 to three, they will come out to fight for it. Was not Wil- 
 liam Lloyd Garrison once mobbed in Boston for attempting 
 to address the "Boston Female Anti Slaver}' Society.'"' He 
 was rushed by the ma}'or into a closed carriage, the police- 
 men yelling at the horses to hurry them on, and beating the 
 
WILLIAM O. GREENE. 653 
 
 mob with their clubs to hold them back. Lodged in a prison 
 cell, Garrison wrote with his pencil on the wall: 
 
 " William Lloyd Garrison was put into this cell on Wednes- 
 day afternoon, Oct. 21, 1835, to save him trom the violence 
 of a ' respectable and influential ' mob, who sought to destroy 
 him for preaching the abominable and dangerous doctrine 
 that 'all men are created equal,' and that all oppression is 
 odious in the sight of God. ' Hail, Columbia! ' Cheers for 
 the Autocrat of Russia and the Sultan of Turke}'! " 
 
 In less than twenty years from that day Boston was dan- 
 gerously near mobbing a man who sought to preach against 
 the " Boston Female Anti-Slavery Society." Did not our 
 glorious old forefathers leave English church persecution, 
 and flee to this country, where they could worship God 
 according to the dictates of their own consciences.'' Yet, 
 within a hundred 3'ears the}' drove Roger Williams to the 
 wilderness and to the savages, because he wanted to serve 
 God the same way. The great revolution in Northern sen- 
 timent that was so agitating the New England States in 
 I S3 5, was slow in making an impression on the Middle States. 
 Springing from an old Tennessee family, Greene was 
 intensely Southern in all his feelings. One night, at Illinois 
 College, the debating society discussed " the r/V///'of slavery." 
 No one could be found to deny that right, except with the 
 proviso that they did it for the debate's sake. 
 
 The next da}^, Robert Patterson — the present Rev. Dr. 
 Patterson, of Chicago — expressed his regret at being absent 
 from the debate, and said he would have taken the negative. 
 "I am opposed to slaver}*," he continued. "I believe it to 
 be a sin, and God will yet curse this nation for the iniquity." 
 Greene stood in mute astonishment before the audacious 
 speaker and his revolutionary doctrine. The divinity of 
 
654 THE GEXIUS OP INDUSTBT. 
 
 slavery had never been questioned in his presence before. 
 His soul revolted at such political heres}', and yet he admired 
 the boldness of his school-fellow. He has ever since watched 
 the career of Dr. Patterson with great interest. 
 
 Jean Paul Richter says when the thought broke upon him 
 that he lived he was overwhelmed by the fact. This thought 
 that slavery might be on debatable ground first caused W. 
 G. Greene to ihinh. The ages are very different when we 
 begin to think. Richter saj's he could not remember the 
 time when he began to think. Some begin at twent}', some 
 at fort}', and others never. Fortunate is that man through 
 whose brain a red-hot bolt of doctrine in politics or religion, 
 or in anv thing, flies and flashes, causing him for all after 
 life to think. 
 
'WiWi^T^ ^^ ^i^^^i^^* 
 
 (PPl^T)NPfP-) 
 
 HEN once a man has become a thinker, half his dan- 
 ■i ''/,^ IK) ger from vice is averted, and half his moral character 
 rC^'M^J is made. Thought is the great moral anaesthetic. The 
 thinkers are the moving powers in their community, witli rare 
 exceptions. A thoughtful man leaves vice and seeks virtue; 
 hence, from its acti\e character, moral association is more 
 potent for good than corrupt association is for bad. Even 
 those of bad habits love to be influenced by the thoughtful 
 men. 
 
 There are certain epochs in every man's life that are favor- 
 able to good resolutions. There are certain times when no 
 one ought to frame resolutions. This is counter to the cur- 
 rent of public sentimentalism, which says it is always in order 
 to do good. When a man is on the verge of bankruptcy ; 
 when every acre is mortgaged, and every bond is h3'pothe- 
 cated; when ruin stares him in the face, and duns fall as thick 
 as autumn leaves — that is no time to resolve that he will 
 never go in debt again. The circumstances surrounding him 
 are unfavorable to such resolutions; it is an oath taken under 
 
 655 
 
656 THE OENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 duress. Wait until 3-ou are " released " from bankruptcy; 
 then, when business is again commenced on a clean docket, 
 with every thing to make and nothing to lose, register the 
 resolution; the surroundings are now favorable to its fultill- 
 ment. 
 
 Dr. Howard said that of three thousand patients, danger- 
 ously ill, who promised to unite with the church if health 
 should return, three kept their word. If the promises had 
 been made at the proper time — in health — a fair per cent, 
 would have been fulfilled. How many tipplers get on a 
 melancholy "drunk," and swear to drink no inore.^ How 
 man)' thieves, when flying before the sheriff, promise them- 
 selves to steal no more.'' How many men engage in excess, 
 and, writhing under its cat-o'-nine-tails, declare that the}' will 
 do so no more.-^ The failure in all these resolutions is that the}' 
 are not made at the right time. Solomon said: " There is 
 a time for all things." There is a time to abstain from good 
 resolutions. 
 
 There comes a place, to every young man, where his road 
 forks, one way leading to virtue, and the other off to vice. 
 Up to that time vice and virtue have been almost as one 
 quality; now, as his mind develops, and he steps into the 
 •struggles of life, the}- are as widely separate as the poles. 
 He must bring his will-power to bear, and elect his path, or 
 he will gravitate more to the wrong than to the right. It 
 was the old Greek sophist, Prodicus, who invented the fable 
 of the choice of Hercules. Tennyson has beautifully repro- 
 duced it, in lone Qi^none, who tells " man3--fountained " Ida 
 of the choice of Paris, when he turned away from Athene 
 with her wisdom, to Aphrodite with her love. Pythagoras 
 took the letter Y as the symbol of human life: 
 
 " Et tibe, quae Samois didupit litera ramos." 
 
WILLIAM 6. GREENE. 657 
 
 The stem of the letter denoted that part of human life in 
 which character is still unformed; the right hand branch, 
 the tiner of the two, represents the path of virtue; the other, 
 that of vice. As one of the commentators sa}-s, " The fancy 
 took mightily with the ancients." 
 
 There is a clearly-detined turning-point in the life of every 
 person. Having been brought to think for himself, and then 
 of himself, Mr. Green pursued the course of moralizing 
 indulged in above, and, assisted by the brave counsels of his 
 friend, he decided that, as manhood's years had now arrived, 
 and he had finished school, and was on the threshold of the 
 world, he must choose his course of action, and carve it out 
 •definitely, no matter what the after surroundings . might be. 
 He thereupon made his resolution concerning gaming, and 
 decided that he would be a busitiess man. And to help him 
 keep his resolutions, and assist him in his plans of thrift, he 
 decided he ought to have man's balance-wheel — a wife. 
 
 To engage in business for life, and to find a wife, he 
 turned his thoughts to the South. He thought that for 
 happiness and for glory there was no place like the " knobs " 
 ot old Tennessee. Accordingly, he took up his line of 
 march for the South, where all his social and political affini- 
 ties were. He arrived in Kentucky without money and 
 without friends, having his heart placed on a home of his 
 own and an aim high in the financial world. He decided 
 that he could teach school, and in a short time have money 
 enough to start in business. Toward sunset one evening, 
 from the top of a hill, he espied a handsome country house, 
 situated in a beautiful valley. Seeing a courtlj'-looking old 
 gentleman on the piazza, he dismounted at the gate, and, 
 approaching him, asked for a drink. A servant was sent to 
 the spring on the hill-side for it. This gave Greene the 
 
658 TUE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 opportunity he coveted. He sat down in a vacant chair, 
 and poured out a stream of conversation that surprised and 
 electrified his host. 
 
 There was but Httle travehng in those days, and good 
 company was scarce. Mr. Carpenter soon asked his visitor 
 to stay all night. Greene shortly made known his business, 
 and within an hour was employed as tutor in jNIr. Carpen- 
 ter's family. In a few months he moved on to Tennessee, 
 and by his eminent success in a suburban school soon 
 became principal ot' the Priestly Academ3^ 
 
 At this place he became acquainted with Miss Louisa H. 
 White, who filled his ideal of womanhood. Perhaps the 
 blind 3'oung god helped to make the decision — he usually 
 does- -at any rate, in the following spring Miss White 
 became Mrs. Greene. Greene's cool and calculating nature 
 had caused him to philosophize much on the value of a wife. 
 He had long since come to the conclusion that the man who 
 married well had secured half his fortune. A married life 
 of fort}' years has, in his case, demonstrated the correctness 
 of his philosophy. Many of the world's successful men find 
 themselves able to date their onward start from the 
 day of their union to a loving, intelligent, common-sense 
 woman. 
 
 We hear much of the domestic infelicities of men of 
 genius, such as Socrates, Dante, Milton, Montaigne, Moliere, 
 Rousseau, Byron, Bulwer and Dickens. With no class of 
 men can an uncongenial alliance be conducive of happiness. 
 Neither can it be said that the separations which some of 
 these illustrious men have indulged in have in anywise fired 
 their genius into additional fame, or brought more gold to 
 their coffers. 
 
 Pitt sacrificed his own happiness, and tore out of his heart 
 
WILLIAM G. GREENE. 659 
 
 by the roots as pure a love as man ever entertained, because 
 he felt that his ambition could win its height more surel}- in 
 a single life. True, he won that for which he had staked 
 all; but the celibacy and fame of Pitt, and Newton, and 
 Locke, and Leibnitz, and Voltaire, and Hume, and Adam 
 Smith, by no means prove it ,true that bachelorhood and 
 eminence of life are necessarily joined. Bufibn acknowledged 
 his wife's influence over his compositions, and said she helped 
 to give him that which was his genius — his patience. The 
 younger Pliny blessed Calphurnia, his wife, and asserted 
 that her influence gave the world his books. Burke would 
 rush like a madman from the worry of his office to his home, 
 exclaiming: " Every care vanishes the moment I enter under 
 m}' roof And Luther, speaking of his wife, said: ''I 
 would not exchange my poverty with her for all the riches 
 of Croesus without her." 
 
 Would Andy Johnson have ever got beyond his " goose " 
 without his wife.^ Did not Ccesar fall when he threw aside 
 his wife's entreaties.^ And how man}' of Vanderbilt's mil- 
 lions were planned for, worked out, and husbanded by his 
 "Sophy? " So, Greene, although a victim to love, felt, tron:i 
 the philosopher's stand-point, that he would be unequal to all 
 the energies that business and morals would thrust upon him, 
 without a wife. One of the ancient wits said that "The men 
 ruled Rome, and the women ruled the men." Mr. Greene 
 confesses that the affections and counsels of his wife, beyond 
 what happiness they have inspired beneath their own roof, 
 have largely molded his business character, and materially 
 aided in rearing their fortune. 
 
 Greene could no longer brook delay; he moved to Memphis, 
 and entered into business. His wife kept a boarding-house, 
 and he opened a grocery-store in a shed room, fourteen feet 
 
660 THE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 square, adjoining the dwelling. He was well equipped for 
 business, for he had $125. In addition to this, he had oood 
 health, capacity and energ}-. It' a man fail with these, it 
 will do him no good to will him a fortune. Greene well 
 knew that he could not successfully compete with the stocked 
 houses of the city; but down on the square, where the cotton 
 men " camped out," he resolved to a-eate his trade. Attrac- 
 tive, shrewd and accommodating, he soon won a host of cus- 
 tomers. He had his established prices at the house; but on 
 the square he must compete with all manner of men. He 
 often sold a barrel of sugar or sack of coffee for twenty-five 
 cents profit, these men never bujing in less quantities. Dur- 
 ing the first }'ear, he frequentl}' sold more goods in a day 
 than he had in the store. 
 
 As quick, however, as he had made a sale to one of these 
 men, he would dispatch a dray to the wholesale house, and 
 have the order filled and the goods presently rolled on the 
 sidewalk at his front door. After he had been in business 
 some two years, INIr. Tresvant, the proprietor of the whole- 
 sale house, passing down the street and noticing Greene's 
 name over the door, stepped in to see him. Dumbfounded 
 at the smallness of the concern, he said: " This is one of your 
 branch houses, Mr. Greene.^ " " No," said Greene; "this is 
 the only house I have ever done business in. " Well, replied 
 Tresvant, " from the size of 3-our wholesale bills, I supposed 
 you had one of the largest houses in the city." "No, sir, " 
 said Greene, with a tinge of self-adulation; " the house is four- 
 teen feet square — it's the man that does the business! " 
 
 On entering business, the young merchant felt that it was 
 as necessary to establish good credit as to win customers. 
 He stocked his room with shelf goods, one sack of coffee, and 
 two barrels of sugar. After the first few purchases, he inva- 
 
■*"~5' -P«4. a. J>*<toAIf A 
 
WILLIAM 6. GREENE. 661 
 
 riably sent his orders to the wholesale trade without the 
 cash. And then, once a week, on a certain evening at fi\-e 
 o'clock, he started out to settle his bills. He alwa3-s rejoiced 
 when it stormed, so he could go through the rain to his set- 
 tlements. He would pass into the counting-room dripping 
 with rain, shaking himself and smiling. They would remon- 
 strate with him, saying they did not expect men to come at 
 such times. But he felt that his credit was e\"ery thing. " I 
 have nothing but m}' honor," he would say, "and I am 
 determined to have as good credit as any man in this cit}-; 
 and there is no way to get it but to meet my obligations, 
 rain or shine." 
 
 At the end of three years, INIr. Greene found himself worth 
 four thousand dollars. He was solicited to take one of the 
 mammoth rooms in the heart of the city, but he saw, in the 
 young and growing State of Illinois, an opportunity for mak- 
 ing money that the business of Memphis was not acquainted 
 with. He had lost sight of his social and political prejudices 
 far enough to believe that he could live comfortabl}- in any 
 place which furnished him opportunities lor business. The 
 decision made, he closed business with his usual dispatch, 
 and was soon located on a farm in Mason Count}', Illinois. 
 
 In 1853, he purchased a farm near Tallula, Menard County, 
 on which he has since resided. He is as practical and orig- 
 inal in his farming as in his trading schemes. He has always 
 farmed on the principle that there are two ways of doing a 
 thing. As he says himself, " Ever}' thing has two ends — a 
 right end, and a wrong end. If you begin at the wrong 
 end, every thing will go wrong. If you begin at the right 
 end, the seasons, the elements, all nature become your 
 helpers. Begin ever}-thing at the right time and place — get 
 the right kind of a start, and pursumg it with energy and 
 
662 THE GENIUS OP INDUSTRY. 
 
 discretion, there is no difficulty in attaining large results. 
 Here, now, is a hundred acres of corn. See those ears burst- 
 ing out of the end of the husk, with sound grains of corn 
 entirely over the end of the cob. No half-inch of dead-waste 
 there, and five pounds of weight gained on every bushel. 
 
 " Look down these rows: not a blade of grass; not a weed. 
 What makes this corn, is, it gets ever}' ounce of strength 
 that the soil has to yield. The Lord is alwa3-s on the side 
 of the thrifty husbandman, just as He is alwa3-s on tlie side 
 of the best generals and the biggest guns. Nature is man's 
 friend; she will stand by him and give him a bountiful crop, 
 if he will onl}' treat her right, and keep the ' chains ' oft". 
 But if he turns the soil unseasonably, or plants unseasonabl}', 
 or binds nature down, like a slave, in weeds and thistles, she 
 gives him a small crop, because he will not unloose her, that 
 she ma}' give him a large one. Every farmer can become 
 rich, if he will work in harmony with nature. I court her, 
 and pet her, and anticipate her wants, with all the devotion 
 a young husband brings to his bride. Nature is not a slave; 
 she is a friend and an all}-. 
 
 " Few farmers know how to stimulate a tenant and get 
 all out of him he is capable of doing. I bind ever}- man in 
 a contract. The corn-field is to be kept in a certain condi- 
 tion; in the month of August, every noxious weed is to be 
 driven out. I show them where other men fail, and how I 
 make my money. Then, to add to it all, I give a handsome 
 premium to the man who raises the best crop. Ever}- acre 
 is tended as well as if I was doing it myself. The most 
 indolent hand becomes a miracle of energy, and registers an 
 oath against weeds and clods as terrible and eternal as that 
 of Hannibal against the enemy of Carthage. 
 
 " Thus it is, through these agencies, I give nature an 
 
WILLIAM G. GREENE. 663 
 
 opportunity to do her wonted work, and, for these thirty 
 years of farming, my fields have averaged sevent3'-one 
 bushels of corn to the acre. I work no harder than other 
 men. The average farmer harvests thirt}' bushels to the 
 acre. Now, count that forty bushels extra on eacli acre for 
 a hundred acres, for thirty consecutive years, putting it at 
 the fair price of thirty cents a bushel; let this surplus stand 
 at interest and compound interest, and 3'ou have, in thirty 
 years, one hundred thousand dollars! — enough wealth for 
 any man. That accounts for that much of my fortune. Any 
 farmer can accomplish that same result who will follow the 
 same path that I have worked in. That hundred thousand 
 dollars is the difference between good farming and common 
 farming for thirty years! 
 
 " The easiest way to do a thing is the best way, whether 
 it be mauling rails or ruling the nation. That corn-field I 
 sowed down this fall with rj'e, and harrowed it with sheep. 
 We flung the rye on to the ground, and then turned fifty 
 sheep into the field; in a few days they had drilled it in bet- 
 ter than any drill could have done. It has been pronounced 
 the best piece of rye in the country. I drill my wheat in 
 the same way. The sharp hoofs pack the grain in until it 
 defies winter, and, while other men often have their fall 
 sowings frozen out, mine has never been injured by the 
 cold. 
 
 " Farming is a science, as much as chiseling a Madonna 
 or navigating the ocean; but men abuse it, sa_ving it is only 
 working with dirt ; and, as a result, they harvest thistles and 
 mortgages. What is painting or rearing palaces but work- 
 ing with earth in another form.? The same devotion 
 brought to the primitive soil that is expended upon these, 
 would give the farmer the means to control the artist 
 
66i THE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 at his easel, and let him slumber in the palace of the 
 architect. 
 
 " I greath' admire those words of Horace Greeley, pro- 
 phetic and true: ' Facts abundantly indicate that the actual 
 position of the cultivator is not what it might and should be. 
 He ought to be, by science and wisdom, the master of the 
 elements; }-et is, through ignorance and imperfection, their 
 slave. Instead of being, as in manufactures, or navigation, 
 the director and controller of the blind forces of nature to 
 his own use and ' profit, the farmer allows them to escape 
 him in uselessness or mischief, and feebly and insufficiently 
 supplies their place by over-taxing his own sinews. Hence,, 
 weariness, disgust, and meager recompense; hence the 
 accomplished or longed-for escape of countless thousands 
 from the paltry drudgery of the hoe and spade to the larger 
 hopes and more intellectual sphere of effort elsewhere 
 aftbrded. 
 
 " ' Within the sphere of agriculture lie yet enfolded the 
 germs of conquests, far mightier and nobler than those of 
 any Caesar or Napoleon. These petty, cramped inclosures, 
 these deforming, dwarfing fences, which render the land- 
 scape so insipid and characterless, shall yet be swept away 
 by the genius of improvement. Then the brook shall no 
 more brawl idly down the declivity, while the laborer delves 
 wearily, yet ineffectually, by its side, and will no more 
 stoop doggedly to burdens which the free breezes would 
 gladly bear to their appointed destination. We stand but 
 on the threshold of the world of science made practical, and 
 our vision rests on and is bounded by its application to man- 
 ufactures alone. The farmer of the coming age — master 
 and manager of steam, rather than tyrant of enslaved, toil- 
 worn, hungry beasts — shall not need painfully to hea^•e the 
 
WILLIAM G. GREENE. 665 
 
 ponderous rock from its base, but will, rather, by some 
 chemical solvent, pulverize it to fertile dust vi'here it lies. 
 To his informed, observant mind, the changes of tempera- 
 ture, the succession of calm and storm, shall bring no 
 surprise, no disaster, being unerringly foreseen and profited 
 by, like the rotation of the seasons. * * * There is no 
 practical limit to the powers at all times presenting them- 
 selves to do the bidding of man, had he but the talent and 
 the genius to adapt and apply them. Nature wills that the 
 plow, the scj'the, the axe, the harvest-wain, shall move for- 
 ward on their proper errands, as irresistibly, inexpensivel}' 
 as the saw, the throstle, the shuttle, and with equally bene- 
 ficent results. Half a century will suffice, in my judgment, 
 to bring forward agriculture to the point inanufacture has 
 now reached.' 
 
 " The farmer is the chief corner-stone of our commerce. 
 If he does his work indifferently, the whole superstructure 
 is to that extent impaired. I hail fairs, and agricultural 
 colleges, and an agricultural congress, as God-sends to our 
 nation. We inust be lifted out of this ignorant, slip-shod 
 farming, that expects the ground to bring forth harvests 
 with half-cultivation drudgingly given. If I sweat out a 
 dollar, I have rendered its full equivalent, and more; for 
 that much of my vital force is gone, and I am no better than 
 the machine that performs that many ' horse-power ' work. 
 But if I bring my intelligence into action, and, by its assist- 
 ance, produce the work of three such machines, then have I 
 a profit o\'er saw-mills and beasts of bvirden. That profit is 
 the legitimate capital of my brain. Nature intends for man 
 to take that surplus cash and travel, buy books, and educate, 
 and purchase and admire, the useful and the beautiful. Edu- 
 cate the farmers and artisans; teach them that they are 
 
666 THE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 men; show them how to use their brain in conjunction with 
 their muscle; let them know the meaning of thrift, and 
 study the wealth in econom}'. If all our laboring classes 
 would thus act, every man could soon have a home, a com- 
 petence for his old age, and would lead a life serene, intelli- 
 gent, and happy." 
 
 Such is the terse and vivid way in which Mr. Greene 
 speaks of a farmer's life. This class of men never leave 
 anything to chance. The}' enter into the meditations of a 
 philosopher over ever}' crop to be planted. The}' take the 
 papers, and keep posted on the markets, and know the num- 
 ber of bushels of each kind of grain raised on the globe each 
 season. Keeping pace with the supply, and knowing the 
 demand, they always prepare themselves to feed the great- 
 est need. 
 
 Another maxim of the good business man is to make some 
 money every year. He who acts on this principle, is a sure 
 and safe business man. He that proposes to " dri\'e business 
 for all it is worth," and make a fortune in ten years, may 
 secure some enormous returns, but he is about as certain to 
 lose them. As some men die just at the right time to gi\'e 
 their names to fame, so, if these men would leave a fortune, 
 they must die just after a big trade. Senator Yates was 
 always impatient of Greene's slow way of making money, 
 and would continually picture to him John T. Alexander, 
 the great cattle shipper, as the model business man, and was 
 grieved that Greene would not make the mammoth ventures 
 of Alexander. 
 
 One day Yates came to Greene, and showed him a state- 
 ment of Alexander's business for the past year. He had 
 cleared two hundred and ninety-tive thousand dollars. 
 " Now," said Yates, "you drone around and make about so 
 
WILLIAM O. GREENE. 067 
 
 much ever}- year, and John pitches out and makes a fortune 
 in one year." " I know he is outstripping me now," Greene 
 quietly replied, " but he is sailing his craft over a dangerous 
 sea. He will bankrupt inside of ten years, as sure as fate. 
 But my fortune is solid as Gibraltar. No possible reverse 
 can come that will break me. In selling railroad stock, or 
 a hundred head of cattle, or a horse, I make something in 
 every transaction. I have the reins over my business, and 
 understand it to the minutest detail; while John is an ach'en- 
 turer, knowing reall}' but little about his business, and is 
 wildly prospecting for a gold mine somewhere.'''' The pre- 
 diction was fulfilled. In less than ten years Alexander was 
 a bankrupt, and did not know his indebtedness by two hun- 
 dred thousand dollars. 
 
 Greene seldom invested a dollar in any enterprise that lost 
 him money. He entertains a trade involving a hundred dollars 
 with the same patient study and sagacity that he does one in- 
 vohing a hundred thousand. He considers a result, whether 
 it be ten dollars, or ten thousand dollars' profit, of equal 
 importance. He strives, not for so many dollars, but for the 
 successful issue of a trade. And such a result he deems no 
 mean achie\'ement. The words of Frederick the Great con- 
 cerning his father, ma}' be applied to Mr. Greene: " He had 
 an industrious spirit in a robust body, with, perhaps, more 
 capacity for minute details than any man that ever lived; 
 and if he occupied himself with little things, it was that great 
 results might be the consequence." 
 
 Some men can make money at certain times. To Greene 
 all times are alike good for a crop of profits. If crops are 
 good, commerce is active, and every one is full of money, 
 he makes, with others. If crops are poor, improvements 
 come to a stop, every man is afraid to invest, and dealers 
 
668 TEE GENIUS OP INDUSTRY. 
 
 being pushed to the wall, he makes his usual amount. He 
 is never alarmed at the times, nor disconcerted in his plans. 
 His cool, self-possessed, far-reaching sagacity never forsakes 
 him. He trims his sails for every condition of afiairs, and 
 out of calm or whirlvt'ind sails awa}' with a profit. 
 
 He likes to see a disruption of all business relations occa- 
 sionall}', because it exhibits the real metal of the business 
 men. When the ways of commerce have become stereo- 
 typed, and everything runs in its rut, man}' men get rich by 
 following the routine that the real men of business have 
 established; now, when all this is interrupted and the old 
 paths are plowed up, and every man is in the " woods," is 
 the time the original self-reliant men manifest their worth. 
 
 Mr. Greene early foresaw the necessit}' of internal im- 
 provement, and has given all the weight of his influence in 
 that direction. However, except in cases of extreme neces- 
 sity, he has opposed government subsidies. He was active 
 in the presidency of the Jacksonville Division of the Chi- 
 cago and Alton Railroad. The energy and sagacity he 
 brought to his duties were effectual in placing the road on a 
 firmer basis than it had ever known before. His presidency 
 of the Springfield and Nortlivvestern Railroad covered the 
 most flourishing period of that road's existence. 
 
 Men of keen business insight and originality of methods 
 are quite apt to displa}' their qualities under all circumstan- 
 ces. During Mr. Greene's presidency' of the Tonica and 
 Petersburg Railroad, he went, in company with Richard 
 Yates to New York, to see after their bonds. On the road, 
 Yates, who was then only a prominent lawyer, told Greene 
 confidentially that he proposed to be Governor of Illinois 
 some day, and solicited his support, which was promised. 
 In New York, as both were Universalists, they went to 
 
WILLIAM O. GREENE. 669 
 
 hear Dr. Chapin, but were unable to find a seat. The next 
 Sunday evening Greene reconnoitered in the vestibule and 
 saw a pale, frail, nervous little usher. He hastened over to 
 the hotel and brought Yates to the church, telling him that 
 he had a seat engaged. They entered the crowded vesti- 
 bule, and pushed their way to the front. A great athletic 
 usher made his appearance to take in some parties. Yates, 
 from the top of his six feet looked down on the plucky little 
 financier. But he stood meelch', saying, in his own mind, 
 "That's not my man." 
 
 The pale and delicate usher appeared. The crowd 
 pressed up as usual, each one seeming to say — "Take me." 
 Greene stepped out in front, waving the crowd back with 
 outstretched arms, and saying: " Ladies and gentlemen, give 
 the Governor of Illinois an opportunity to hear Dr. Chapin 
 — modesty forbids that I should say who / am." The crowd 
 swayed back. The little usher salaamed to his knees. Then, 
 plucking Yates by one arm and Greene by the other, he led 
 them down the aisle, brought two camp-chairs and seated 
 his distinguished guests at the foot of the pulpit. 
 
 Mr. Greene has never divided his forces, but has given 
 his energies supremely to business. Men who do a little at 
 everything, do not usually do much at anything. So, when 
 Greene had decided on his life course, he threw overboard 
 the solicitations of Lincoln and Yates, and set himself to 
 work at his chosen calling. He, howe\'er, played a very 
 important part, privately, in one political campaign. That 
 was not as a politician, but as a friend. In 1859, the dreams 
 of Richard Yates stood on the threshold of fulfillment. He 
 was an aspirant for the Go\'ernorship of Illinois, but Leonard 
 Swett seemingly stood an equal chance for the nomination. 
 The canvass prior to the convention was carried on with 
 
670 THE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 great warmth, and Yates was fearful of the result. Lincoln 
 had established himself at Springfield, and, in his recent de- 
 bates with Douglas, had earned a national reputation. 
 
 As the convention day drew near, Yates felt that he must 
 make a friend of Lincoln, and decided that their old com- 
 panion, Greene, was able to manipulate the matter to the 
 satisfaction of both. Accordingly Yates came to see Greene, 
 and told him he was certain of the nomination, provided 
 Lincoln could be induced to "lean " to his side; moreover, 
 that Lincoln stood a favorable chance for the Republican 
 nomination for President; and he asked Greene to interest 
 Lincoln in his favor in the race for Governor. In return, 
 Yates would use his influence to bring Lincoln into promin- 
 ence as a candidate for the Presidency in i860. 
 
 Mr. Greene assented to the arrangement. The)^ rode 
 over to Springfield, and once more the three, who had made 
 acquaintance at Salem a quarter of a centur}' belore, stood 
 together Their circumstances had greatly changed since that 
 first meeting. One had become an active member of Con- 
 gress, and now with high hopes was looking forward to the 
 gubernatorial chair. His college friend, aided only by his 
 energy and shrewdness, had hewn his wa}' through obstac- 
 les before which others would have shrunk, and raised him- 
 self from an obscure j-outh to a wealthy and prominent 
 citizen of the state. The third was rapidly growing into 
 fame as a statesman. Little did any of them think what 
 tremendous issues were gathering around the path of one of 
 that trio. 
 
 Greene and Lincoln retired to the counsel room of the 
 office. There Greene unfolded to Lincoln the desire of Yates, 
 for his support. There had been a coolness between the two 
 latter for some years, and Lincoln was glad of an opportunity 
 
WILLIAM O. GHEEX-E. 671 
 
 to lay the Christian's coals of fire on the head of Yates. 
 Greene next opened the presidential matter. He showed 
 Lincoln the feasibility of his aspirations, and revealed the 
 plan of introducing him to the east: Yates would write Con- 
 gressman George Briggs a letter, and have him work np a 
 call from the New York Central Committee for Lincoln to 
 deliver an address on the political condition of the countr}' 
 at the Cooper Union. " In lact, Abe," continued Greene, 
 "Dick considei's your destiny and his linked together, and 
 that letter is now on its wa}' to New York." Of course 
 Abe would '' lean " a little for Dick. Yates was nominated 
 and elected. Lincoln was invited to New York, and in the 
 following May received the Presidential nomination. 
 
 The elements of Mr. Greene's success are readily traced 
 in his qualities. He is remarkable for the strength and s\m- 
 metry of his character. His brain is well balanced, and his 
 great mental force, keen perception, and quick intuitions are 
 compensated by a genial temperament, kindly nature, and 
 other graces of character which relieve these qualities from 
 what might otherwise assume the form of severity, or even 
 angularit}', and make him a courtly gentleman. Cautious, 
 systematic, and reflective in his business operations, he is yet 
 daring, determined, and even combative, where his intellect 
 has indicated the proper course for him to follow; and, with 
 these nobler qualities, he possesses, to a remarkable degree, 
 that possibl}' commonplace, but certainly useful, chai-acteris- 
 tic, practical common sense. 
 
 To natural shrewdness he adds habits of observation that 
 make his judgment, in matters of business, almost unerring. 
 Combine with this, promptness to seize upon the salient points 
 of a transaction, and decision enough to assume at once the 
 responsibility of a contract, and we have the elements of the 
 
672 THE GENIUS OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 keen, successful business man. In connection with a nice per- 
 ception and understanding of the relations of details, his broad 
 and vital grasp of mainmoth interests has been the impelling 
 power by which Mr. Greene has succeeded in manipulating 
 operations which, to many men, would have been reckless 
 adventures, crowned with disaster. 
 
 Finall}', if the prosperity of William G. Greene has been 
 beyond that of most men, it is because he has thought more, 
 planned better, and brought to the execution of his designs 
 energy and perseverance that seldom fail in the accomplish- 
 ment of their object. Born to the necessities of labor, the 
 early circumstances of his life offered no promise of golden 
 success. That was something almost foreign to the rude 
 time and community in which he grew to manhood. Had 
 his life been cast amid abundant opportunities for enterprise, 
 he would doubtless ha^"e reaped larger gains. As it was, 
 the rough, backwoods life, the hardships of whose training 
 have brought upon the stage so much of sterling worth while 
 it in some sense held talent in check, yet was not without its 
 influence in cultivating shrewdness, energ}', self-reliance, and 
 decision; qualities which always, and everywhere, must be 
 relied upon to produce success. Fortune is a fickle goddess. 
 She commonl}- frowns before she smiles. Those who woo 
 her successfuU}' must first withstand her buftetings, and in 
 the school of a thousand emergencies and difficulties, gain 
 the bravery and tact which at last carry the day. It was 
 by such a process that William G. Greene climbed from pov- 
 erty to position and six hundred thousand dollars. 
 

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