consecrated banner, and her belief in her great mission,--sent a thrill
of enthusiasm through the whole French army such as neither king nor
statesman could produce. Her zeal carried everything before it.
Enthusiasm makes men strong. It wakes them up, brings out their latent
powers, keeps up incessant action, impels to tasks requiring strength,
and then carries them to completion. Many are born to be giants, yet,
from lack of enthusiasm, few grow above common men. They need to be set
on fire by some eager impulse, inspired by some grand resolve, and they
would then quickly rise head and shoulders above their fellows.
Enthusiasm is the element of success in everything. It is the light that
leads, and the strength that lifts men on and up in the great struggles
of scientific pursuits and of professional labors. It robs endurance of
difficulty, and makes a pleasure of duty.
Enthusiasm gives to man a power that is irresistible. It is that secret
and harmonious spirit which hovers over the production of genius,
throwing the reader of a book, or the spectator of a statue, into the
presence of those with whom these works have originated. A great work
always leaves us in a state of lofty contemplation, if we are in
sympathy with it.
The most irresistible charm of youth is its bubbling enthusiasm. The
youth who comes fully under its control sees no darkness ahead. He
forgets that there is such a thing as failure in the world, and believes
that mankind has been waiting all these centuries for him to come and be
the liberator of truth and energy and beauty.
The boy Bach copied whole books of musical studies by moonlight, for
want of a candle churlishly denied. Nor was he disheartened when these
copies were taken from him. The boy painter West, began his work in a
garret, and cut hairs from the tail of the family cat for bristles to
make his brushes. Gerster, an unknown Hungarian singer, made fame and
fortune sure the first night she appeared in opera. Her enthusiasm
almost mesmerized her auditors. In less than a week she had become
popular and independent. Her soul was smitten with a passion for growth,
and all the powers of heart and mind were devoted to self-improvement.
Enthusiasm is purified and ennobled by self-denial. As the traveler, who
would ascend a lofty mountain summit, to enjoy the sunset there, leaves
the quiet of the lowly vale, and climbs the difficult path, so the true
enthusiast, in his aspiration after the highest good, allows himself to
be stopped by no wish for wealth and pleasure, and every step he takes
forward is connected with self-denial, but is a step nearer to success.
THOMAS A. EDISON.
If one were to ask what individual best typifies the industrial progress
of this nation, it would be easy to answer, Thomas Alva Edison. Looking
at him as a newspaper boy, at the age of fifteen, one would hardly have
been led to predict that this young fellow would be responsible for the
industrial transformation of this continent.
At that early age he had already begun to dabble in chemistry, and had
fitted up a small traveling laboratory. One day, as he was performing an
experiment, the train rounded a curve and the bottles of chemicals were
dashed to the floor. There followed a series of unearthly odors and
unnatural complications. The conductor, who had suffered long and
patiently, now ejected the youthful enthusiast; and, it is said,
accompanied the expulsion with a resounding box upon the ear. This did
not dampen Edison's ardor, in the least. He passed through one dramatic
situation after another, mastering each and all; but his advancement
was due to patient, persevering work.
Not long ago a reporter asked him if he had regular hours for work.
"Oh!" he answered, "I do not work hard now. I come to the laboratory
about eight o'clock every day, and go home to tea at six; and then I
study and work on some problem until eleven, which is my hour for bed."
When it was suggested that fourteen or fifteen hours' work per day could
scarcely be called loafing, he replied, "Well, for fifteen years I have
worked on an average twenty hours a day." Nothing but a rare devotion to
an interesting subject could keep any man so diligently employed. So
enthusiastically did he pursue his researches, that, when he had once
started to solve a difficult problem, he has been known to work at it
for sixty consecutive hours.
In describing his Boston experiences, Edison relates that he bought
Faraday's works on electricity, and beginning to read them at three
o'clock in the morning, continued until his room-mate arose, when they
started on their long walk for breakfast. Breakfast, however, was of
small account in Edison's mind compared with his love for Faraday; and
he suddenly remarked to his friend, "Adams, I have so much to do, and
life is so short, that I must hustle;" and with that he started off on
a dead run for the boarding-house.
Edison has shown that he cares nothing for money, and has no particular
enthusiasm for fame. "What makes you work so hard?" asked a friend. "I
like it," he answered, after a moment's puzzled expression; and then
repeated several times, "I like it. I do not know any other reason. You
know how some people like to collect stamps. Anything I have begun is
always on my mind, and I am not easy while away from it until it is
finished."
Electrical science is still in its infancy, but the enthusiasm of Edison
has done much for its advancement. The subject indeed is a fascinating
one, and Edison's devotion to it, and the discoveries and practical
applications he has made in his researches, have placed him in the front
rank of America's greatest inventors.
[Footnote: See Review of Reviews, Vol. XVIII., and articles in
encyclopedias.]
XXII.
COURAGE.
MEMORY GEMS.
The best hearts are always the bravest.--Sterne
In noble souls, valor does not wait for years.--Corneille
Courage is always greatest when blended with meekness.--Earl Stanhope
A brave man hazards life, but not his conscience.--Schiller
A great deal of talent is lost in the world for want of a little
courage.--Sydney Smith
The definition of courage given by Webster is, "that quality of mind
which enables men to encounter danger and difficulties with firmness or
without fear or depression of spirits." We would rather say that courage
does not consist in feeling no fear, but in conquering fear. Our meaning
will perhaps be best made clear by the following illustrations:
Two French officers at Waterloo were advancing to charge a greatly
superior force. One, observing that the other showed signs of fear, said
"Sir, I believe you are frightened." "Yes, I am," was the reply; "and if
you were half as much frightened, you would run away."
"That's a brave man," said Wellington, when he saw a soldier turn pale
as he marched against a battery; "he knows his danger, and faces it."
Genuine courage is based on something more than animal strength; and
this holds true always. Cowardly hearts are often encased in giant
frames. Slender women often display astounding bravery.
The courageous man is a real helper in the work of the world's
advancement. His influence is magnetic. He creates an epidemic of
nobleness. Men follow him, even to the death.
"Our enemies are before us," exclaimed the Spartans at Thermopylae. "And
we are before them," was the cool reply of Leonidas. "Deliver your
arms," came the message from Xerxes. "Come and take them," was the
answer Leonidas sent back. A Persian soldier said: "You will not be able
to see the sun for flying javelins and arrows." "Then we will fight in
the shade," replied a Lacedaemonian. What wonder that a handful of such
men checked the march of the greatest host that ever trod the earth.
Don't be like Uriah Heep, begging everybody's pardon for taking the
liberty of being in the world. There is nothing attractive in timidity,
nothing lovable in fear. Both are deformities, and are repulsive. Manly
courage is dignified and graceful.
The spirit of courage will transform the whole temper of your life. "The
wise and active conquer difficulties by daring to attempt them. The lazy
and the foolish shiver and sicken at the sight of trial and hazard, and
create the very impossibility they fear."
Abraham Lincoln's boyhood was one long struggle with poverty, with
little education, and no influential friends. When at last he had begun
the practice of law, it required no little daring to cast his fortune
with the weaker side in politics, and thus imperil what small
reputation he had gained. Only the most sublime moral courage could
have sustained him as President to hold his ground against hostile
criticism and a long train of disaster, to issue the Emancipation
Proclamation, to support Grant and Stanton against the clamor of the
politicians and the press, and, through it all, to do what he believed
to be right.
Did you ever read the fable of the magician and the mouse? It is worth
reading in this connection:
A mouse that dwelt near the abode of a great magician, was kept in such
constant fear of a cat, that the magician, taking pity on it, turned it
into a cat itself. Immediately it began to suffer from its fear of a
dog, so the magician turned it into a dog. Then it began to suffer from
fear of a tiger. The magician therefore turned it into a tiger. Then it
began to suffer from fear of hunters, and the magician said in disgust:
"Be a mouse again. As you have only the heart of a mouse, it is
impossible to help you by giving you the body of a nobler animal." The
moral of the story you can gather for yourselves.
We have already said that many women have displayed courage of a very
high order. Here is a case in point:
Charles V. of Spain passed through Thuringia in 1547, on his return to
Swabia after the battle of Muehlburg. He wrote to Catherine, Countess
Dowager of Schwartzburg, promising that her subjects should not be
molested in their persons or property if they would supply the Spanish
soldiers with provisions at a reasonable price. On approaching her
residence, General Alva and Prince Henry of Brunswick, with his sons,
invited themselves, by a messenger sent forward, to breakfast with the
Countess, who had no choice but to ratify so delicate a request from the
commander of an army. Just as the guests were seated at a generous
repast, the Countess was called from the hall and told that the
Spaniards were using violence and driving away the cattle of the
peasants.
Quietly arming all her retinue, she bolted and barred all the gates and
doors of the castle, and returned to the banquet to complain of the
breach of faith. General Alva told her that such was the custom of war,
adding that such trifling disorders were not to be heeded. "That we
shall presently see," said Catherine; "my poor subjects must have their
own again, or, as God lives, prince's blood for oxen's blood!" The
doors were opened, and armed men took the place of the waiters behind
the chairs of the guests. Henry changed color; then, as the best way out
of a bad scrape, laughed loudly, and ended by praising the splendid
acting of his hostess, and promising that Alva should order the cattle
restored at once. Not until a courier returned, saying that the order
had been obeyed, and all damages settled satisfactorily, did the armed
waiters leave. The Countess then thanked her guests for the honor they
had done her castle, and they retired with protestations of their
distinguished consideration.
There is a form of moral courage which bears most directly upon
ourselves. It is seen in the career of William H. Seward, who was given
a thousand dollars by his father to go to college with, and told that
this was all he was to have. The son returned home at the end of his
freshman year with extravagant habits and no money. His father refused
to give him more, and told him he could not stay at home. When the youth
found the props all taken out from under him, and that he must now sink
or swim, he left home moneyless, returned to college, graduated at the
head of his class, studied law, was elected governor of New York, and
became Lincoln's great Secretary of State during the Civil War.
Genuine courage is neither rash, vain, nor selfish. It sometimes leadsus
to appear cowardly; and cowardice sometimes puts on the guise of
boldness. We need to know the individual and the circumstances to judge
correctly as to whether courage is of the true order. We should all
discourage the tendency to exalt brute force and mere muscle to high
admiration; and enforce the power of mind, ideas, and lofty ambition.
The noblest phase of courage and heroism is in the submission of this
might to the laws of right and helpfulness.
RICHARD PEARSON HOBSON.
There is no better modern illustration of courage than that thrilling
exploit of Lieutenant Hobson in taking the Merrimac into the harbor of
Santiago.
While the Spanish fleet, under Admiral Cervera, lay blockaded in
Santiago Bay, the idea was conceived of making the blockade doubly safe
by sinking the coal-ship Merrimac across the narrow channel. To carry
out this plan cool-headed, heroic men were needed, who would be willing
to take their lives in their hands, for the good of their country's
cause. To accomplish the object, the vessel must be taken into a harbor
full of mines, under the fire of three shore batteries, supported by a
powerful Spanish fleet and two regiments of soldiers. The honor of
carrying out this bold scheme was given to young Hobson, by whom the
plan had been mainly outlined.
He was a young man from Alabama, twenty-seven years of age, a graduate
of the Naval Academy in the class of 1889, being the youngest member,
and standing at the head of his class. He had already shown himself to
be a gentleman, a student, and an adept in practical affairs. Now he was
to prove that he was a hero.
Here came to him, in the ordinary course of duty, the opportunity for
which he had prepared himself; and the courage with which he carried it
out made for him a name which will always be remembered in the annals
of naval warfare.
Out of the hundreds who volunteered to assist him in this perilous
undertaking, six men were selected. At an early hour in the morning the
gallant crew set out. Every vessel in the American fleet was on the
alert: every man's nerves were at the highest tension over the success
of the project and the fate of Hobson and his comrades. Thousands of
anxious eyes peered through the darkness as they watched the old collier
disappear into the harbor.
Suddenly the scene changed. Sheets of fire flashed from Morro Castle and
the other batteries along the shore. It seemed impossible for human life
to exist in that deadly and concentrated fire. In the downpour of shot
and shell the Merrimac's rudder was blown away and her stern anchor cut
loose. The electric batteries were damaged to such an extent that only
part of the torpedoes could be exploded. The result was that instead of
sinking where intended, the vessel drifted with the tide past the narrow
neck. The Merrimac sank but did not completely block up the channel.
The enemy's fire was so incessant and sweeping that it was impossible
for the crew to reach the life-raft which they had in tow; so Hobson and
his men lay flat on deck and waited for the ship to sink. It was a
terrible waiting while every great gun and Mauser rifle was pouring its
deadly fire upon the ship. At last the end came. The ship sank beneath
the waves, and, through the whirlpool of rushing water, the men rose to
the surface and climbed upon their raft. Clinging to this, with their
faces only out of water they waited for daylight, and then gave
themselves up as prisoners to the Spaniards.
In the afternoon, Admiral Cervera sent an officer, under a flag of
truce, to Admiral Sampson, telling him of their safety, and adding:
"Daring like theirs makes the bitterest enemies proud that their
fellow-men can be so brave."
[Footnote: See Review of Reviews, Vol. XVIII., and Draper's "The Rescue
of Cuba" and other war stories recently published.]
XXIII.
SELF-HELP.
MEMORY GEMS.
Our remedies oft in ourselves do lie, which we ascribe to Heaven.
--Shakespeare
Be sure, my son, and remember that the best men always make themselves.
--Patrick Henry.
God gives every bird its food, but he does not throw it into the nest.
--J. G. Holland
Every person has two educations, one which he receives from others, and
one, more important, which he gives himself.--Gibbon
In battle or business, whatever the game,
In law, or in love it is ever the same:
In the struggle for power, or the scramble for pelf,
Let this be your motto, "Rely on yourself."--J. G. Saxe
History and biography unite in teaching that circumstances have rarely
favored great men. They have fought their way to triumph over the road
of difficulty and through all sorts of opposition. Boys of lowly origin
have made many of the greatest discoveries, are presidents of our banks,
of our colleges, of our universities. Our poor boys and girls have
written many of our greatest books, and have filled the highest places
as teachers and journalists. Ask almost any great man in our large
cities where he was born, and he will tell you it was on a farm or in a
small country village. Nearly all the great capitalists of the city came
from the country.
Frederick Douglass, America's most representative colored man, was born
a slave, reared in bondage, liberated by his own exertions, educated and
advanced by sheer pluck and perseverance, to distinguished positions in
the service of his country, and to a high place in the respect and
esteem of the whole world.
Chauncey Jerome, the inventor of machine-made clocks, started with
twoothers on a tour through New Jersey, they to sell the clocks, and he
to make cases for them. On his way to New York he went through New
Haven, Connecticut, in a lumber wagon, eating bread and cheese. He
afterward lived in a fine mansion in that city, and stood very high
among its people.
Men who have been bolstered up all their lives are seldom good for
anything in a crisis. When misfortune comes, they look around for
somebody to lean upon. If the prop is not there down they go. Once
down, they are helpless as capsized turtles. Many a boy has succeeded
beyond all his expectations simply because all props were knocked out
from under him and he was obliged to stand upon his own feet. "Poverty
is uncomfortable, as I can testify," said James A. Garfield; "but nine
times out of ten the best thing that can happen to a young man is to be
tossed overboard and compelled to sink or swim for himself. In all my
acquaintance I have never known a man to be drowned who was worth the
saving."
What is put into the first of life is put into the whole of life. The
great London preacher, Mr. Spurgeon, once said "Out of a church of
twenty-seven hundred members, I have never had to exclude a single one
who was received while a child;" and in other respects it is equally
true that our earliest impressions and habits most powerfully influence
our later life.
Washington, at thirteen, copied into his commonplace book one hundred
and ten maxims of civility and good behavior, and was most careful in
the formation of all his habits. Franklin, too, devised a plan of
self-improvement and character-building. No doubt the noble characters
of these two men, almost superhuman in their excellence, are the natural
result of their early care and earnest striving toward perfection.
But the opposite truth needs to be quite as fully considered. "Many men
of genius have written worse scrawls than I do," said a boy at Eugby,
when his teacher remonstrated with him for his bad penmanship; "it is
not worth while to worry about so trivial a fault." Ten years later,
when he had become an officer in the Crimea, his illegible copy of an
order caused the loss of many brave men.
The insidious growth of the power of habit is well illustrated by the
old fable which says that one of the Fates spun filaments so fine that
they were invisible, and then became a victim of her own cunning; for
she was bound to the spot by these very threads.
There is also a story of a Grecian flute-player who charged double fees
for pupils who had been taught by inferior masters, on the ground that
it was much harder to undo bad habits than to form good ones.
"Conduct," says Matthew Arnold, "is three fourths of life;" but conduct
has its source in character. Right conduct in life is to be secured by
the formation of right character in youth. The prime element in
character, as related to conduct, is the power of self-directions and
hence the supreme aim of school discipline is to prepare the young to
be self-governing men and women.
An easy and luxurious existence does not train men to effort or
encounter with difficulty; nor does it awaken that consciousness of
power which is so necessary for energetic and effective action in life.
Indeed, so far from poverty being a misfortune, it may, by vigorous
self-help, be converted into a blessing.
A young man stood listlessly watching some anglers on a bridge. He was
poor and dejected. At length, approaching a basket filled with fish, he
sighed, "If now I had these I would be happy. I could sell them and buy
food and lodging." "I will give you just as many and just as good," said
the owner, who chanced to overhear his words, "if you will do me a
trifling favor." "And what is that?" asked the other. "Only to tend this
line till I come back; I wish to go on a short errand." The proposal was
gladly accepted. The old man was gone so long that the young man began
to get impatient. Meanwhile the fish snapped greedily at the hook, and
he lost all his depression in the excitement of pulling them in. When
the owner returned he had caught a large number. Counting out from them
as many as were in the basket, and presenting them to the youth, the old
fisherman said, "I fulfill my promise from the fish you have caught, to
teach you whenever you see others earning what you need, to waste no
time in foolish wishing, but cast a line for yourself."
After a stained-glass window had been constructed for a great European
cathedral, an artist picked up the discarded fragments and made one of
the most exquisite windows in Europe for another cathedral. So one boy
will pick up a splendid education out of the odds and ends of time
which others carelessly throw away, or he will gain a fortune by saving
what others waste.
There is an English fable that is worthy of special attention. The story
is as follows:
Some larks had a nest in a field of grain. One evening the old larks
coming home found the young ones in great terror. "We must leave our
nest at once," they cried. Then they related how they had heard the
farmer say that he must get his neighbors to come the next day and help
him reap his field. "Oh!" cried the old birds, "if that is all, we may
rest quietly in our nest." The next evening the young birds were found
again in a state of terror. The farmer, it seems, was very angry because
his neighbors had not come, and had said that he should get his
relatives to come the next day and help him. The old birds took the news
easily, and said there was nothing to fear yet. The next evening the
young birds were quite cheerful. "Have you heard nothing to-day?" asked
the old ones. "Nothing important," answered the young. "It is only that
the farmer was angry because his relatives also failed him, and he said
to his sons, 'Since neither our neighbors nor our relations will help
us, we must take hold to-morrow and do it ourselves!'" The old birds
were excited this time. They said, "We must leave our nest to-night.
When a man decides to do a thing for himself, and to do
it at once, you may be pretty sure that it will be done."
If you have anything to do, do it yourself; for that is both the surest
and the safest way to permanent success.
STEPHEN GIRAD.
We present by way of special illustration, a few incidents from
thecareer of Stephen Girard.