learn
to read, which was all the schooling he had. His desire for an
education defied the extremest poverty, and no obstacle could turn him
from his purpose. He was rich when he discovered a little bookstore,
and his thirsty soul would drink in the precious treasures from its
priceless volumes for hours, perfectly oblivious of the scanty meal of
bread and water which awaited him at his lowly lodging. Nothing could
discourage him from trying to improve himself by study. It seemed to
him that an opportunity to get at books and lectures was all that any
man could need. Before he was nineteen, this poor shepherd boy with no
chance had astonished the professors of Edinburgh by his knowledge of
Greek and Latin.

Hearing that a surgeon's assistant in the Civil Service was wanted,
although he knew nothing whatever of medicine, he determined to apply
for it. There were only six months before the place was to be filled,
but nothing would daunt him, and he took his degree with honor. Walter
Scott, who thought this one of the most remarkable illustrations of
perseverance, helped to fit him out, and he sailed for India.

Webster was very poor even after he entered Dartmouth College. A
friend sent him a recipe for greasing his boots. Webster wrote and
thanked him, and added: "But my boots needs other doctoring, for they
not only admit water, but even peas and gravel-stones." Yet he became
one of the greatest men in the world. Sydney Smith said: "Webster was
a living lie, because no man on earth could be as great as he looked."
Carlyle said of him: "One would incline at sight to back him against
the world."

What seemed to be luck followed Stephen Girard all his life. No matter
what he did, it always seemed to others to turn to his account.

Being a foreigner, unable to speak English, short, stout, and with a
repulsive face, blind in one eye, it was hard for him to get a start.
But he was not the man to give up. He had begun as a cabin boy at
thirteen, and for nine years sailed between Bordeaux and the French
West Indies. He improved every leisure minute at sea, mastering the
art of navigation.

At the age of eight he had first discovered that he was blind in one
eye. His father, evidently thinking that he would never amount to
anything, would not help him to an education beyond that of mere
reading and writing, but sent his younger brothers to college. The
discovery of his blindness, the neglect of his father, a