The Advantages of Difficulties.

Rev. WILLIAM DɛWITT HYDE, D.D., President Bowdoin College, Maine.

T

HE philosopher Kant remarks that a dove, inasmuch as the only obstacle it has to overcome is the resistance of the

air, might suppose that if only the air were out of the way, it could fly with greatest rapidity and ease. Yet if the air were withdrawn, and the bird were to try to fly in a vacuum, it would fall instantly to the ground, unable to fly at all. The very element that offers the difficulty to flying is at the same time the condition of any flight whatever.

The chief difficulty which a locomotive has to overcome in moving a train is friction. Yet if there were no friction, the locomotive could not move the train a single inch. The resistance of the water against the prow is the chief difficulty that the steamship has to overcome; yet if it were not for this same resistance of the water against the blades of the propeller, the ship would not move at all.

This same law, that our difficulties are the conditions of our success, holds true in human life. A life freed from all difficulties would be a life shorn of all its possibilities of power. Mind, like matter, is plentifully endowed with inertia. Powers not called into active exercise lie dormant. And powers suffered long to lie dormant die. Difficulty is a spur that wakes us up and compels us to exert our powers. And the exertion gives us new power; and so out of our difficulties is born our strength. The child of luxury, whose wants are gratified, whose faults are overlooked, whose whims are indulged as fast as they arise, has no occasion to develop self-control, self-reliance, self-support. Hence he grows up without them; and when the time of

trial comes he is found heartless, helpless, hopeless, in the face of conditions which the sons of poverty and toil master with perfect ease.

This is the reason why the average country boy so easily outstrips the average city boy in the keen competitions of city life. The city boy has hosts of acquaintances and friends; while the boy from the country is an utter stranger. The city boy has polished manners; while the boy from the country may be awkward and bashful. The city boy is given a good start in the office; while the country boy has to begin out in the factory or warehouse. The city boy has friends on the lookout to secure him chances of promotion; while the country boy has to work his own way by his own exertions. This goes on perhaps a dozen years; and to all appearances the city boy has altogether the best of it. At the end of that time there is a change. A man is wanted who thoroughly understands the business from top to bottom; one who can put into it energy and force; one who will give his days and nights to its development and extension. It is no longer a question of granting favors to this or that individual. It is now a question of urgent need. The business must have the right man or fail. The firm turns to these two young men. One has been in the office all these years; comfortable and contented; he has saved nothing, not taking the trouble to familiarize himself with the petty details of the business or to cultivate the acquaintance of the men who are actually engaged in the rough, hard work which it involves. He does very well where he is. He is a good bookkeeper. But he is not qualified to take the control of the actual work. The workmen would take advantage of him. Customers would get the best of him. He will not do. The firm turns to the other young man. He has learned the processes peculiar to

the business. He knows the men with whom he has had to deal. He has had a small salary, but has saved a portion of it every year. He understands the business better than anyone else. He wins the promotion he deserves. The boy who has had to earn his living knows the value of a dollar as the boy

who has always had his spending money given to him never can. The young man who has been knocked about in the world appreciates kindness and love as those who have always had plenty of friends and favors too often fail to do. The man who has been misunderstood and criticised and condemned unjustly acquires a firm reliance on his own integrity of purpose which the popular man is very likely to lose.

Even the severest physical defects and limitations have their compensations. There is no misfortune which a resolute will may not transform into an advantage. A closer acquaintance with the inner life of men of large achievement seldom fails to reveal the presence of some early privation, some bodily infirmity, some sore bereavement, some bitter disappointment, which has served as a secret spur to their endeavors. Out of hundreds of such cases I will cite two American historians : William H. Prescott, and Francis Parkman. In earlier days the order at college dining tables was not perfect; and frequently a "biscuit battle" followed the conclusion of the meal. In his Junior year, as Prescott was passing out of the Commons Hall after dinner, he turned his head quickly to see what the disturbance was, and was hit in the open eye by a large, hard piece of bread, which destroyed the sight of the eye. On his return to college after the resulting illness, he "now determined to acquire more respectable rank in his class than he had earlier deemed worth the trouble." A year and a half later the other eye became inflamed and affected with rheumatism. For weeks at a time he was compelled to remain in a room so dark that he could not see the furniture; and here he walked hundreds of miles from corner to corner, thrusting out his elbows so as to get warning through them of his approach to the angles of the wall, from which he wore away the plaster by the constant blows thus inflicted on it. He was compelled to abandon his chosen profession of law. At the age of twentyfive he found himself with greatly impaired eyesight, and with no accurate knowledge of the modern languages. Yet he chose as his life work history, which more than any other line of liter

ary work requires eyesight; and a branch of history which required the constant use of the languages of Southern Europe. He at once set about the training of his memory; and persisted until he could prepare, work over, revise, correct, and retain in his memory the equivalent of sixty pages of printed matter; which he would then dictate to his amanuensis. In the face of these difficulties he produced the history of Ferdinand and Isabella, the Conquest of Mexico, and the Conquest of Peru. And later, when he could use his one remaining eye only one hour a day, and that divided into portions at wide intervals, he prepared his history of Philip II. As President Walker of Harvard University said, "We lamented the impairment of his sight as a great calamity; yet it helped, at least, to induce that earnestness and concentration of life and pursuit which has won for him a world-wide influence and fame."

Francis Parkman, in his college days, at the age of eighteen, devoted himself to the history of the French settlements in America. In order to understand the life of the Indians, who played so large a part in the history which he was determined to write, he went and lived among them in the far West. In doing this he greatly impaired his health. His eyesight was affected so that he could not read or write but a few minutes at a time; and his general health would not permit him to apply himself to study more than half an hour at a time. Yet, like Darwin, who could study but twenty minutes at a time, and that rarely more than twice each day, he has left us a splendid monument of work done so thoroughly that no one will ever need to do it after him.

The men who succeed best in the end are frequently the men who have most difficulty at the start. The greatest orators, from Demosthenes to Webster, have made wretched failures of their first attempts. During the years he was at Phillips Exeter Academy, Webster, although he committed piece after piece to memory, was so overcome when called upon to speak that he never was able to leave his seat. Difficulty may come, as in these cases from excess of power, which is at first uncontrol

lable, but is the condition of great achievement when control is gained. The colts which are hardest to break make the best horses to drive.

No young man should be discouraged by difficulties; for nothing worth doing was ever free from them. They are the stuff success is made of.

"Then welcome each rebuff

That turns earth's smoothness rough,

Each sting that bids nor stand, nor sit, but go!

Be our joys three parts pain!

Strive, and hold cheap the strain

Learn, nor account the pang; dare, never grudge the throe!"

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