delity to his work. The time that might still be left to him
for work must henceforth be wrested, day by day, from the grasp of
death. The writing occupied five months, while from hour to hour and
day to day his life was prolonged, his doctors said, by the sheer force
of his own will and his inflexible determination to finish the "Making
of England." He lay, too weak to lift a book, or to hold a pen,
dictating every word, sometimes through hours of intense suffering.
Yet so conscientious was he that, driven by death as he was, the
greater part of the book was rewritten five times. When it was done he
began the "Conquest of England," wrote it, reviewed it, and then,
dissatisfied with it, rejected it all and began again. As death laid
its cold fingers on his heart, he said: "I still have some work to do
that I know is good. I will try to win but one week more to write it
down." It was not until he was actually dying that he said, "I can
work no more."

"What does he know," said a sage, "who has not suffered?" Schiller
produced his greatest tragedies in the midst of physical suffering
almost amounting to torture. Handel was never greater than when,
warned by palsy of the approach of death, and struggling with distress
and suffering, he sat down to compose the great works which have made
his name immortal in music. Mozart composed his great operas, and last
of all his "Requiem," when oppressed by debt and struggling with a
fatal disease. Beethoven produced his greatest works amidst gloomy
sorrow, when oppressed by almost total deafness.

Perhaps no one ever battled harder to overcome obstacles which would
have disheartened most men than Demosthenes. He had such a weak voice,
and such an impediment in his speech, and was so short of breath, that
he could scarcely get through a single sentence without stopping to
rest. All his first attempts were nearly drowned by the hisses, jeers,
and scoffs of his audiences. His first effort that met with success
was against his guardian, who had defrauded him, and whom he compelled
to refund a part of his fortune. He was so discouraged by his defeats
that he determined to give up forever all attempts at oratory. One of
his auditors, however, believed the young man had something in him, and
encouraged him to persevere. He accordingly appeared again in public,
but was hissed down as before. As he withdrew, hanging his head in
great confusion, a noted actor, Satyrus, encou