into a square hole? How many youths are delayed in their course
because nobody believes in them, because nobody encourages them,
because they get no sympathy and are forever tortured for not doing
that against which every fiber of their being protests, and every drop
of their blood rebels? How many men have to feel their way to the goal
through the blindness of ignorance and lack of experience? How many go
bungling along from the lack of early discipline and drill in the
vocation they have chosen? How many have to hobble along on crutches
because they were never taught to help themselves, but have been
accustomed to lean upon a father's wealth or a mother's indulgence?
How many are weakened for the journey of life by self-indulgence, by
dissipation, by "life-sappers"; how many are crippled by disease, by a
weak constitution, by impaired eyesight or hearing?

When the prizes of life shall be finally awarded, the distance we have
run, the weights we have carried, the handicaps, will all be taken into
account. Not the distance we have run, but the obstacles we have
overcome, the disadvantages under which we have made the race, will
decide the prizes. The poor wretch who has plodded along against
unknown temptations, the poor woman who has buried her sorrows in her
silent heart and sewed her weary way through life, those who have
suffered abuse in silence, and who have been unrecognized or despised
by their fellow-runners, will often receive the greater prize.

"The wise and active conquer difficulties,
By daring to attempt them; sloth and folly
Shiver and sink at sight of toil and hazard,
And make the impossibility they fear."

"I can't, it is impossible," said a foiled lieutenant, to Alexander.
"Begone," shouted the conquering Macedonian, "there is nothing
impossible to him who will try."

Were I called upon to express in a word the secret of so many failures
among those who started out in life with high hopes, I should say
unhesitatingly, they lacked will-power. They could not half will.
What is a man without a will? He is like an engine without steam, a
mere sport of chance, to be tossed about hither and thither, always at
the mercy of those who have wills. I should call the strength of will
the test of a young man's possibilities. Can he will strong enough,
and hold whatever he undertakes with an iron grip? It is the iron grip
that takes the strong hold on life. What chance is there in this