NERVE--GRIP, PLUCK
"Never give up; for the wisest is boldest,
Knowing that Providence mingles the cup;
And of all maxims, the best, as the oldest,
Is the stern watchword of 'Never give up!'"
Be firm; one constant element of luck
Is genuine, solid, old Teutonic pluck.
Stick to your aim; the mongrel's hold will slip,
But only crowbars loose the bulldog's grip;
Small though he looks, the jaw that never yields
Drags down the bellowing monarch of the fields!
HOLMES.
"Soldiers, you are Frenchmen," said Napoleon, coolly walking among his
disaffected generals when they threatened his life in the Egyptian
campaign; "you are too many to assassinate, and too few to intimidate
me." "How brave he is!" exclaimed the ringleader, as he withdrew,
completely cowed.
"General Taylor never surrenders," said old "Rough and Ready" at Buena
Vista, when Santa Anna with 20,000 men offered him a chance to save his
4,000 soldiers by capitulation. The battle was long and desperate, but
at length the Mexicans were glad to avoid further defeat by flight.
When Lincoln was asked how Grant impressed him as a general, he
replied, "The greatest thing about him is cool persistency of purpose.
He has the grip of a bulldog; when he once gets his teeth in, nothing
can shake him off." It was "On to Richmond," and "I propose to fight
it out on this line if it takes all summer," that settled the fate of
the Rebellion.
"My sword is too short," said a Spartan youth to his father. "Add a
step to it, then," was the only reply.
It is said that the snapping-turtle will not release his grip, even
after his head is cut off. He is resolved, if he dies, to die hard.
It is just such grit that enables men to succeed, for what is called
luck is generally the prerogative of valiant souls. It is the final
effort that brings victory. It is the last pull of the oar, with
clenched teeth and knit muscles, that shows what Oxford boatmen call
"the beefiness of the fellow."
After Grant's defeat at the first battle of Shiloh, nearly every
newspaper of both parties in the North, almost every member of
Congress, and public sentiment everywhere demanded his removal.
Friends of the President pleaded with him to give the command to some
one else, for his own sake as well as for the good of the country.
Lincoln listened for hours one night, speaking only at rare intervals
to tell a pithy story, until the clock struck one. Then, after a long
silence, he said: "I can't spare this man. He fights." It was
Lincoln's marvelous insight and sagacity that saved Grant from the
storm of popular passion, and gave us the greatest hero of the Civil
War.
It is this keeping right on that wins in the battle of life.
Grant never looked backward. Once, after several days of hard fighting
without definite result, he called a council of war. One general
described the route by which he would retreat, another thought it
better to retire by a different road, and general after general told
how he would withdraw, or fall back, or seek a more favorable position
in the rear. At length all eyes were turned upon Grant, who had been a
silent listener for hours. He rose, took a bundle of papers from an
inside pocket, handed one to each general, and said: "Gentlemen, at
dawn you will execute those orders." Every paper gave definite
directions for an advance, and with the morning sun the army moved
forward to victory.
Massena's army of 18,000 men in Genoa had been reduced by fighting and
famine to 8,000. They had killed and captured more than 15,000
Austrians, but their provisions were completely exhausted; starvation
stared them in the face; the enemy outnumbered them four to one, and
they seemed at the mercy of their opponents. General Ott demanded a
discretionary surrender, but Massena replied: "My soldiers must be
allowed to march out with colors flying, and arms and baggage; not as
prisoners of war, but free to fight when and where we please. If you
do not grant this, I will sally forth from Genoa sword in hand. With
eight thousand famished men I will attack your camp, and I will fight
till I cut my way through it." Ott knew the temper of the great
soldier, and agreed to accept the terms if he would surrender himself,
or if he would depart by sea so as not to be quickly joined by
reinforcements. Massena's only reply was: "Take my terms, or I will
cut my way through your army." Ott at last agreed, when Massena said:
"I give you notice that ere fifteen days are passed I shall be once
more in Genoa," and he kept his word.
Napoleon said of this man, who was orphaned in infancy and cast upon
the world to make his own way in life: "When defeated, Massena was
always ready to fight a battle over again, as though he had been the
conqueror."
"The battle is completely lost," said Desaix, looking at his watch,
when consulted by Napoleon at Marengo; "but it is only two o'clock, and
we shall have time to gain another." He then made his famous cavalry
charge, and won the field, although a few minutes before the French
soldiers all along the line were momentarily expecting an order to
retreat.
"Well," said Barnum to a friend in 1841, "I am going to buy the
American Museum." "Buy it!" exclaimed the astonished friend, who knew
that the showman had not a dollar; "what do you intend buying it with?"
"Brass," was the prompt reply, "for silver and gold have I none."
Everyone interested in public entertainments in New York knew Barnum,
and knew the condition of his pocket; but Francis Olmstead, who owned
the Museum building, consulted numerous references all telling of "a
good showman, who would do as he agreed," and accepted a proposition to
give security for the purchaser. Mr. Olmstead was to appoint a
money-taker at the door, and credit Barnum towards the purchase with
all above expenses and an allowance of fifty dollars per month to
support his wife and three children. Mrs. Barnum assented to the
arrangement, and offered to cut down the household expenses to a little
more than a dollar a day. Six months later Mr. Olmstead entered the
ticket-office at noon, and found Barnum eating for dinner a few slices
of bread and some corned beef. "Is this the way you eat your dinner?"
he asked.
"I have not eaten a warm dinner since I bought the Museum, except on
the Sabbath; and I intend never to eat another until I get out of
debt." "Ah! you are safe, and will pay for the Museum before the year
is out," said Mr. Olmstead, slapping the young man approvingly on the
shoulder. He was right, for in less than a year Barnum had paid every
cent out of the profits of the establishment.
"Hard pounding, gentlemen," said Wellington at Waterloo to his
officers, "but we will see who can pound the longest."
"It is very kind of them to 'sand' our letters for us," said young
Junot coolly, as an Austrian shell scattered earth over the dispatch he
was writing at the dictation of his commander-in-chief. The remark
attracted Napoleon's attention and led to the promotion of the
scrivener.
"There is room enough up higher," said Webster to a young man
hesitating to study law because the profession was so crowded. This is
true in every department of activity. The young man who succeeds must
hold his ground and push hard. Whoever attempts to pass through the
door to success will find it labeled, "Push."
There is another big word in the English language: the perfection of
grit is the power of saying "No," with emphasis that can not be
mistaken. Learn to meet hard times with a harder will, and more
determined pluck. The nature which is all pine and straw is of no use
in times of trial, we must have some oak and iron in us. The goddess
of fame or of fortune has been won by many a poor boy who had no
friends, no backing, or anything but pure grit and invincible purpose.
A good character, good habits, and _iron industry_ are impregnable to
the assaults of the ill luck that fools are dreaming of. There is no
luck, for all practical purposes, to him who is not striving, and whose
senses are not all eagerly attent. What are called accidental
discoveries are almost invariably made by those who are looking for
something. A man incurs about as much risk of being struck by
lightning as by accidental luck. There is, perhaps, an element of luck
in the amount of success which crowns the efforts of different men; but
even here it will usually be found that the sagacity with which the
efforts are directed and the energy with which they are prosecuted
measure pretty accurately the luck contained in the results achieved.
Apparent exceptions will be found to relate almost wholly to single
undertakings, while in the long run the rule will hold good. Two
pearl-divers, equally expert, dive together and work with equal energy.
One brings up a pearl, while the other returns empty-handed. But let
both persevere and at the end of five, ten, or twenty years it will be
found that they succeeded almost in exact proportion to their skill and
industry.
"Varied experience of men has led me, the longer I live," says Huxley,
"to set less value on mere cleverness; to attach more and more
importance to industry and physical endurance. Indeed, I am much
disposed to think that endurance is the most valuable quality of all;
for industry, as the desire to work hard, does not come to much if a
feeble frame is unable to respond to the desire. No life is wasted
unless it ends in sloth, dishonesty, or cowardice. No success is
worthy of the name unless it is won by honest industry and brave
breasting of the waves of fortune."
Has luck ever made a fool speak words of wisdom; an ignoramus utter
lectures on science; a dolt write an Odyssey, an Aeneid, a Paradise
Lost, or a Hamlet; a loafer become a Girard or Astor, a Rothschild,
Stewart, Vanderbilt, Field, Gould, or Rockefeller; a coward win at
Yorktown, Wagram, Waterloo, or Richmond; a careless stonecutter carve
an Apollo, a Minerva, a Venus de Medici, or a Greek Slave? Does luck
raise rich crops on the land of the sluggard, weeds and brambles on
that of the industrious farmer? Does luck make the drunkard sleek and
attractive, and his home cheerful, while the temperate man looks
haggard and suffers want and misery? Does luck starve honest labor,
and pamper idleness? Does luck put common sense at a discount, folly
at a premium? Does it cast intelligence into the gutter, and raise
ignorance to the skies? Does it imprison virtue, and laud vice? Did
luck give Watt his engine, Franklin his captive lightning, Whitney his
cotton-gin, Fulton his steamboat, Morse his telegraph, Blanchard his
lathe, Howe his sewing-machine, Goodyear his rubber, Bell his
telephone, Edison his phonograph?
If you are told of the man who, worn out by a painful disorder, tried
to commit suicide, but only opened an internal tumor, effecting a cure;
of the Persian condemned to lose his tongue, on whom a bungling
operation merely removed an impediment of speech; of a painter who
produced an effect long desired by throwing his brush at a picture in
rage and despair; of a musician who, after repeated failures in trying
to imitate a storm at sea, obtained the result desired by angrily
running his hands together from the extremities of the keyboard,--bear
in mind that even this "luck" came to men as the result of action, not
inaction.
"Luck is ever waiting for something to turn up," says Cobden; "labor,
with keen eyes and strong will, will turn up something. Luck lies in
bed, and wishes the postman would bring him the news of a legacy; labor
turns out at six o'clock, and with busy pen or ringing hammer lays the
foundation of a competence. Luck whines; labor whistles. Luck relies
on chance; labor, on character."
Stick to the thing and carry it through. _Believe you were made for
the place you fill_, and that no one else can fill it as well. Put
forth your whole energies. Be awake, electrify yourself; go forth to
the task. Only once learn to carry a thing through in all its
completeness and proportion, and you will become a hero. You will
think better of yourself; others will think better of you. The world
in its very heart admires the stern, determined doer.
"I like the man who faces what he must
With step triumphant and a heart of cheer;
Who fights the daily battle without fear;
Sees his hopes fail, yet keeps unfaltering trust
That God is God; that somehow, true and just,
His plans work out for mortals; not a tear
Is shed when fortune, which the world holds dear,
Falls from his grasp; better, with love, a crust
Than living in dishonor; envies not,
Nor loses faith in man; but does his best,
Nor even murmurs at his humbler lot;
But with a smile and words of hope, gives zest
To every toiler; he alone is great,
Who by a life heroic conquers fate."