know a young man who is just forty
years of age and who is practically the head of one of the greatest
business institutions in the world. He has worked his way to that
position by ability, character, and untiring industry, from the very
humblest position in his company's service. He is a total abstainer.

I know another, also just forty, who is president of one of the
largest banks in America. When I first knew him, very many years ago,
he occupied the position of cashier in a comparatively obscure
financial house. Merit alone has placed him where he is now. He had no
friends when he began, no "influence," hardly an acquaintance. But he
had _himself_, clear brained and steady pulsed--and that was enough.
He, too, does not touch stimulants of any kind.

Or, to get out of that class of occupations--one of the most
successful political "bosses" in this country, a man who makes
politics his profession, and who, just past forty, is in control of
the political machine of one of our great cities, rose to that
position, by ability alone, from the occupation of a street-car
driver. He also is a total abstainer.

Not only do any of these three young men not drink--also they neither
smoke nor swear. And they are types of twentieth century success. The
"stein-on-the-table-and-a-good-song-ringing-clear" kind of man is out
of date.

You see, so nerve-consuming are all the activities of modern life that
only the very highest types of effectiveness succeed. Brain of ice,
hand of steel, heart of fire, clear vision, and cold, steady grasp of
the lever and masterful, and yet a passionate relentlessness--these
are necessary. Stimulants destroy effectiveness; that is the trouble
with them. And you need every ounce of your power. Do not let the
people who talk "moderation" to you persuade you otherwise. We find
many such in what is called "society," where the taking of wine
moderately is universal.

I repeat that you cannot tell what your powers of resistance are.
Unfortunately, many of the world's noblest characters have had nerves
so finely wrought and brain so vivid that a single drop of stimulant
started a perfect conflagration within them. One of the ablest men
this country has ever known, when questioned by a friend as to what
had been the greatest pleasure of his life, said: "The greatest
'pleasure' of my life is the delirium of intoxication"; and then he
went on to say how sure he was that if the fires of desire had never
bee